

toxijCJC 



rtUIDITXOIN". 



EAD. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



1384- 






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Volume 2 of the "Oven and Range" Series. 



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>HOTE]» 



■-^ - x 









MEAT COOKING 



SECOND EDITION* 




Comprising Hotel and Restaurant Fish and Cystar Conking, How to 
Cut MBats, and Snups, EntrBBS Bnd Bills of FarB. 



©-- 







Jessup Whitehead, 



CHICAGO: 
1884. 






^V" 



Entered according to Act of Congress in tho yearB 1880, 1882 and 1884, 

By JES8UP WHITEHEAD, 

In the Office of the Librarian o( CongreBB at Washington. 



All Bights Resbbybd. 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



THE present volume, as will be at once apparent to the reader who 
glances at the numbers of receipts, constitutes a part of an AMERICAN 
HOTEL COOK Book that is being published serially; the preceding parts 
bound together form the volume called the American Pastry Cook that 
was published a year ago, at two dollars. That volume has met with a very 
encouraging degree of success, so that a second edition has become necessary, 
and the sales have steadily increased as the merits of the work became better 
known. 

In the meantime, the most numerous and frequent inquiries have been 
received for instructions how to cook oysters and how to cut meats, questions 
which this book answers in a most thorough manner. Instructions for meat 
cutting, as practiced by hotel cooks, have never before been put in print, it is 
no wonder, therefore, that the demand for them has been urgent; and almost 
the same thing might be said of oyster cooking and all the other matters so 
far as regards hotel and restaurant practice, for the present is the first endeavor 
ever put forth to describe the conditions that really exist in hotels and make 
the cooking directions conform to them and not to a set of strange conditions 
that exist somewhere a long way off. 

The merit most particularly claimed for the entire series is the reliable 
character of the directions, which offer to any intelligent person a chance to 
learn a trade that is an exceedingly good one for those who have the capacity 
to become skillful in it. 



SECOND EDITION 



Since the above was first printed another part has been supplied, the 
Hotel Book of Soups, Entrees and Bills of Fare, which adds con- 
siderably to the value of this volume. It is the intention, when the series is 
entirely complete, to bind the whole in one large book, to be called the 
American Cook. 



THE 



^HOTEL^ 



H 



v SND 



m 



H 



^ 
-/[\- 



Showing all the Best Methods nf Cooking Clysters and Fish, 

for Restaurant and Hotel Service, together with 

the appropriate Sauces and Yegetahles, 



BEING A PART OF THE 



"Oven and Range" Series 



Originally Published in the Chicago Daily National Hotel reporter. 



Jessup Whitehead. 



CHICAGO, 1884. 



<l 






HOTEL FISH AND OYSTER COOK 



HOW TO CUT MEATS. 



BOiST, BOIL -A. IT D BUOIXj. 



803. To Dress Terrapin. 

When there is a question of quantity required for 
a given number of persons it may be counted about 
the same us of young chickens. As they ordinarily 
run a terrapin weighs from two to four pounds 
alive. There are larger and better, but rarely ob- 
tainable away from the source of supply. The 
amount of meat in a terrapin is not over half the 
live weight. It i9 most serviceable stewed or in 
soup. 

Drop the terrapin alive into a pot of boiling 
water. At the end of 15 minutes take it out and 
take oif the bottom shell by chipping through the 
thinnest part where it joins the back shell between 
the openings. This can be done with the heavy 
handle end of a stout knife. Cut close to the shell, 
not to bring any meat away with it. Pour away 
the water that will be found inside but save the 
blood that collects in the deep shell afterwards. 
The gall about the size of a cherry, will be seen near 
the center and must be taken out without breaking; 
also ta'ie out the single fish-bait entrail. Loosen 
the meat from the back shell and cut through the 
spine bone that attaches to the shell at a point above 
the tail. Empty it into a pan. When all are done 
go over them, take off the heads and put them with 
the shells for soup; separate the hind and fore feet 
(or f.ns, as some call them) making four pieces; 
trim off theclaws and scrapeoff the thin outside cuti- 
cle. It is worth while fo take off the the rich fat 
that will be found at the shoulder joints of the 
females, because it boils away while meat is cooking 
tender, and should be added later. It is of a very 
dark green color, almost black. Preserve along 



with it all the eggs both large and small. Keep all 
the pieces of meat, fat and eggs in cold water. Put 
on the heads, shells and remaining scraps in water 
enough to more than cover, boil slowly for two or 
three hours, skimming when it first boils, then 
strain the liquor or stock into a clean saucepan, put 
the pieces of terrapin in and boil them one hour. The 
pieces that were like india-rubber at first will begin 
to be tender by that time, but before being finished 
as stew or soup or otherwise should be taken up on 
dish to cool and the liquor strained into a bowl. 



Most of the terrapin soup now made in hotels is 
of canned terrapin. The raw article prepared as 
above directed is now the same as the canned, ex- 
cept that the latter has the meat and jelly mixed 
together. Both can be finished for table in vari- 
ous ways. 



804. Terrapin in Shell, Maryland Style. 

Take a baking pan large enough to hold as many 
terrapins as are wanted, halt fill it with dry gravel 
or sand and make it hot in the oven. Kill or stun 
the terrapins, wash off and bed them back downwards 
in the pan of gravel. Bake nearly an hour. Take 
hold with a towel and pry off the belly shell, remove 
the gall bag and the single fish bail entrail from the 
inside and loosen the meat from the shell without 
taking it out. Work a cupful of soft butter and 
half as much flour together with alarge teaspoouful 
of black pepper, the same of salt and juice of lemon. 
Drop a spoonful into each terrapin and replace them 
in the oven for the seasonings to cook. Serve in 
the shell on a folded napkin. 



2.')0 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



805. Stowed Torrapin. 

The meat of six terrapins— about four quarts. 

The 1 i < | < i o r or stock — about four quarts. 

ounce! "f butter. 

.'{ tablespoonfuls of flour. 

Herb noil spice seasonings. 

A cupful of sherry or rnadcria. 

The terrapin anil the liquor it was boiled in being 
ready add a little water to the latter to allow for 
boiling away anil set it on to boil with a tnblespoon- 
ful of bruised peppercorns, a piece of parsley root, 
a small bunch of parsley and green thyme, eight 
cloves, a b'ade of rnace and a tablespoonful of onion. 
Stir the butter and flour together over the fire until 
it is yellow or light brown, add it to the boiling 
stock and also a tahlcspomifiil of salt. When boiled 
sufficiently with the thickening in it strain it into 
a clean saucepan. Thai is the sauce. Take the 
pieces of cooked terrapin and chop off all the pro- 
jecting points of bones and otherwise trim the 
joints smooth and shapely, then put them into the 
sauce to simmer at the side of tho range. Add the 
wine, and the fat pieces if any saved, also the eggs, 
ami strew them over the surface of the stew when 

scrvod. 

806. Soft Shell Crabs, Boiled. 

Kvery part of a soft shell crab is eatab e, shell, 
claws and all, except the Band pouch on the under 
side, but tho small claws should be taken off when 
the crabs are to be cooked by boiling. 

Drop tho crabs into boiling water already well 
salted, cook 10 or 15 minutes, drain, and serve with 
a sauce at tho side. 

Tomato ketchup, mayonaiso sauce, hot cream 
sauce or butter or parsley sauce are suitable kinds. 



807. Soft Shell OrabB, Fried. 

Bread it in the usual manner by dipping in egg 
in which a small proportion of water has been 
beaton, then in cracker meal. Drop two or three 
at. a time into a saucepan of hot oil or lard and fry 
light brown in about ten minutes. Thoclaws should 
bo crisp enough to break. Garnish with fried pars- 
ley and sorve muyonaisc at the side separately. 

008. Oyster Stew for Fifty. 

A quart of small oysters bulk, "solid meat," con- 
tains eight dozen. 

A quart of selects bulk, "solid meat," contains 
four to four anil a half dozen. 

A can of selects contains throe and a half dozen 
generally. 

Tho ordinary conventional oyster stew such as 
people expect to receive when it is cooked to order 
is a pint bowl nearly full, consisting of one dozen 
oysters and one or ono and a half cups of milk or 
milk anil oyster liquor, To serve this according to 
the letter a pint of small oysters should be suHicicul 



for four stews, or a can of selects for three and a 
half or four; but as the stews for a large number 
are dipped up and guessed there is always o discrep- 
ancy, and a pint can only be relied upon for three 
dishes. Proceeding upon these calculations, for a 
dinner, or oyster popper, or church festival or other 
such occasion provide tor 511 stews 

9 quarts of small oysters, or 

112 or 1.'! quarts of selects, or 

11 or 15 cans of selects, and 

1J gallons of milk, 

\ gallon of oyster liquor or water, 

1 pound of fresh butter, 

'2 tablespoonfuls of salt. 

Set the milk on in good time that it may heat 
gradually and not burn, and put in the required 
amount, of salt which also helps to prevent burning. 
Cook tho oysters separately and add them to the 
milk afterwards. It is better to boil the oyster 
liquor or water by itself and then drop the oysters 
in, because if they are set over the fire cold in bulk 
the bottom will cook hard before the top is warm. 

As raw oysters do not drain well some boiling 
water should be poured over them, tho liquor will 
then run abundantly and can bo boiled and skim- 
med, the oysters added and thin the milt and 
butter. 



809. To Fry Oysters "Without Eggs. 

Mix cracker meal and Hour together about a cup- 
ful of each, hut the cracker meal the largei measure. 
If no cracker meal to be had crush some oyster 
crackers and put them through a scive. 

Hi.'' somo milk in a shallow pan. Dip the 
oysters out of their own liquor into the mixed meal 
and Hour, out of that into tho milk, then into the 
meal again, giving them a double breading. It does 
no harm to let them lio in the breading a while. 
Handle carefully not to rub off the coating in places 
for the grease to get in. 

Have enough lard very hot in a deep pan to quite 
cover the oysters. Drop in a few at a time, fry 
three or four minutes, take out with a skimmer 
whin light brown and drain free from grease be- 
fore sending them in. 

The milk causes them to fry to tho same fine 
brown color as if eggs were used. If they are quite 
immersed and fried quickly in lard that is hissing 
hot. they come out crisp and dry, yet full of the 
juice of the oyster, [f simmered in lard that is 
only half deep enough the breading peels oil' like so 
much grciisy pudding. 



810. Clam Frittors 'Without Eggs. 

Tho same as the oysters preceding, using raw 
clams, but. bread them four times over instead of 
twice and dip them in clam liquor until the last 
time when dip in milk for color. They are better 
done this way than with egg breading or batter. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



231 



811. A Halt'-Sholl Roast. 

Choose oysters in the shell of a good shape for the 
purpose. Open Lhem and preserve the liquor with 
them in the deep shell. Squeeze a little lemonjuioe 
into theoQj add suit . oayenne and a small pieoe of 
butter and set them on the hot lop of the range 
until I hey begin lo boil over. Or, for a little bettor 
way, set them in a pan having salt in to hold the 
shells level and bake them live minutes in a hot 
oven. This is a good way for ol&ms. 



812. Trufflod Oysters. 

•1 dozen of the largest oysters. 

1 oan of truffles ($1.60 size.) 

6 ounces of breast of chicken, cooked. 

:i mi nees of fat salt pork, raw. 

lied or piokled pepper. 

• r > eggs. Flour. Toast. 

Mince and then pound to a paste the chicken and 

salt pork and add a quarter pod of red pepper 

minced very small and a pinch of Salt, t'ut the 
truffles to the Size of peaB and mix them in. Lay 
the oysters OUl on a napkin, insert a penknife al 
the edge and split each oyster up and down inside 
without making the opening very large, then push 
ill a teaspoonful of the truffle forcemeat. 

As the oysters are stuffed lay them in Hour and 
ooal well with it, then dip in beaten egg in n plate 
Drop a few at a time into hot oil or lard anil fry 
for threo or four minutes. The lard should be deep 
enough to immerse them and hot enough to hiss 
sharply but not smoking. When tho oysters arc of 
a golden brown take them up and drain on blank 
paper in a hut place. Must with line salt. 

Cut diamond shaped pieces of thin dry toast and 
serve four oysters laid diagonally on each slue. 

813. Stuffod Oystors, Broilod. 

Urate the yjlks of hard-boiled eggs — four or live 
for every dozen of the largest oysters — mince half 
as much fat salt pork or bacon and mix in, also 
blaok pepper and chopped parsley, Add a raw 
yolk to make a paste of it. 

Split the oysters inside by moving a penknife up 
and down without making a very large opening al 

the edge and stuff them. Dip them in fine bread 

crumlis that have been minced and sifted through a 
colander, then into batter melted on a plate then 
into the bread Orumbs again and broil lliciu over a 
clear lire. (See No. 881.) 



As a matter of economy it is well lo remember 
that where h ird-linilcd eggs are needed it. answers 
ahout as well to break the eggs raw, save the whites 
for other purposes and poach the yolks alone in a 
shallow pan of water. 



814. Oystors with Macaroni Milanaiso. 

I pound of macaroni 

:: oupfuls of oysters, or two cans. 

| pound of butter ) cupful. 

1 pint, of milk. 

2 eggs. 

1 tablespoonful of dour. 

Popper and salt. 

It is the same as making macaroni and cheese, 
with oysters in place of cheese. Italians make it 
with fish. 

Boil the the macaroni broken iii pieces by itself 
first, throwing it into salted water already boiling 
and allowing 'JO or 25 minutes. Strain it in a col- 
ander, put a layer on the bottom of :i buttered pan 
and spread half the oysters on it. Drop pieces ol 
bulter, pepper and salt, more macaroni, the reel of 
the oysters and macaroni on lop. 

Mix the Hour smooth with milk, add Ihc eggs and 
ret of the milk, pour it ovor the macaroni and bake 
until it is set ill the middle. 

815. Oystors, Box Stow. Rostaurant 
Order. 

In answer to several enquiries as to "wlial is 11 
box stew?" it has to be remarked thai there is ool 

much sense in the term away from the famous Ful 
ton market oyster houses. "Box slew" may be found 
on the regular printed lull of fare of a very lew 
restaurants, price (it) cents, and when served if is 11 
stew of a dozen of the very largest oysters ju;t 
taken out of the shells, with only a spuouful of milk 
and quite us much of the best butter. Tho oysters 
arc dished upon a small sipiare of buttered Ion i in 
a bowl and Iho rich milk and butter poured around 
It is uncommonly good eating, although there is no 
reason for the name except that the largest, oysters 
that are called <-nuntn in Chicago are called ftcs 
oysters in Fulton market. 



816. Box Fry. 

Read explanation above, and a box fry is a fry 
of the very largest oysters in a paper box for 
the buyer to carry borne. 



818. Soft Sholl Clams 

Not soft in tho game sense thai soft shell crabs 
are, but a large kind with brittle shell. Ulei 
taking nut cut off the leathery dark portion that 

projectod ont of the shell and remove with knife 

and lingers the beard and string from the inside 

and throw the olams as they are trimmed into a pan 

Of cold water. Fry them in any of the ways 

directed for oysters; the method of frying without 

eggs above described for oysters and i lain fritters 

is excellent provided there is a Buffioioney of hot 
lard, for these OD account of their open form lake 

up a g I deal of r< 

Stew same as oysters. Roast, by replacing the 
clams in the shells after triiuiuiii" 



232 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



Now, at last, it is the cook's turn to talk back 
about that hotel oyster soup that they say has only 
oue oyster, which, of course, is no such thing. Some 
of the guests get a whole plateful of oysters, partic- 
ularly if the waiters are girls and allowed to help 
themselves at the tureen. Why, anyway, does the 
man who gets only one oyster cime so late? But 
the discontent, in truth, is not with the soup but 
about s methingelse. The only really national soup 
of this couutry is the oyster stew; it alone fills the 
measure of happiness full, and that which is soup 
truly and properly is unsatisfactory in just the 
degree that it differs from stewed oysters. But after 
all the badinage, as slews cannot very generally be 
served as mere preliminaries to a great dinner, it is 
found that oyster soup meets with a readier welcome 
than any other that can be named, and in the inter- 
ior when the expensive raw oysters fail will at least 
run even in favor with the best of other kinds if 
only made of the cooked canned or cove oysters. 

The oyster soups made by the European methods 
have no resemblance to our universal oysters-in 
milk ; with them the oysters are but an addition to 
a soup already made rich and high flavored with fish 
stock, vegetables and anchovies, or else the soup is 
almost a brown oyster sauce. 

In some of our largest restaurants the soup re- 
ceives so little attention that it amounts to nothing 
more than a pint of boiling milk poured over six 
small oysters in a bowl. And still it sellB, though 
it might be better. 

The lowest price of an oyster stew, such as hotel- 
keepers give for soup when they can afford it, in 
respectable restaurants is '25 cents. It is a dozen 
medium oysters with a pint or less of milk and bit 
of butter, with crackers, butter and pickles on the 
table. To furnish such for soup at places away from 
the great oyster markets would require over one 
dozen well filled cans for every fifty persons. But 
hotel-keepers go the dearest way if they buy oysters 
in cans at all, they are cheapest in bulk by the 
gallon. Tie dealers and packers, however, discour- 
age the sale in bulk all they are able. The can of 
oysters is supposed by most people to be equal to a 
quart, but instead it takes 5J or 6 to fill a gallon. 
So much for comparison, but we are not going to do 
anything so mean as discourage the making of the 
favorite soup by making out a hard case of expense 
against it and will treat of it not as stew but as si,up 
— just what the bill of fare promises and not some- 
thing better. 



According to the rules of etiquette 2 gallons of 
soup ought to be enough for 50, and a still smaller 
quantity might be, of any other kind. Having made 
that suggestion, we will now suppose this is the 
Sunday dinner, and go on and make enough to fill 
the plates. 

819. Oyster Soup. 

1 gallon of oysters — 5 or 6 cans. 

1 gallon of good clear soup stock. 

1 gallon of milk. 

1 pound of best fresh butter. 

1 tablespoonful of salt. 

1 heaping teaspoonful of white pepper. 

1 cupful of crushed oyster crackers. 

The stock is used on the principle that the liquor 
that meat has been boiled in is better than water. 
It should be chicken or veal broth slightly seasoned 
with celery and parsely and other vegetables, aud 
should be taken from the top, clear without sedi- 
ment. 

The things to be guarded against are, not to get the 
milk curdled by boiling it with the oys'ers, and to 
avoid having t he scum from the oyster liquor Boating 
on top of the soup. To get out of the trouble shift- 
less cooks sometimes throw the liquor away and 
wash off the oysters; of course that makes the soup 
poor. 

An hour before dinner time set the gallon of stock 
on the range in one saucepan and the milk in another. 
Pour the oysters into a large colander set in another 
saucepan on the table and when the soup stock boils 
pour a few ladlefuls into the oysters, stir them and 
let them drain. Then set the oyster liquor thus 
obtained over the fire.when it boils skim it, then strain 
it into the soup stock. Next throw in the oysters 
and when they begin to shrink, showing they are 
fairly hot through take the vessel from the fire. Stir 
in the cupful of rolled crackers, (not cracker meal 
from the barrel,) the salt, pepper and butter, then at 
last add the boiling milk and pour the soup into the 
tureen. Sprinkle a little chopped parsley over the 
top. 



It is very poor policy to let the oysters ever reach 
boiling heat. They begin to shrink and dwindle the 
moment they touch hot liquor and never stop till the 
largest saddle-rocks looks like small oysters, and 
the small oysters seem to disappear altogether. At 

I least it is hard to find them after the soup has been 

I kept hot for some time. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



233 



820. Oyster Soup, French "Way. 
(Restaurant Ordir for 25.) 

2 quarts of oysters — or 3 cans. 
5 quarts of seasoned fish stock. 
1 quart of French white wine. 

3 or i anchovies. 
18 yolks of eggB. 
1 pint of cream. 

Salt, pepper, and white bulter-and-flour thick- 
ening. 

Make the fish stock by boiling a 5 pound fish, or 
some eels, in plain broth, with a head of celery, a 
handful or two of parsley, salt, white pepper, the 
wine and anchovies. M hile it is boiling pour a few 
ladlefuls into the oysters and then drain them in a 
colander and add the liquor to the Btock. When the 
fish has boiled slowly about three quarters of an 
hour strain off the stook into another kettle, add a 
lii tie thickening, (roux,) let it boil and skim it ; put 
in the oysters and while they are nearingthe boiling 
point again beat the yolks and the pint of cream 
t'ge' her and stir them in Draw the kettle to ihe 
side of the range and watch till the soup becomes 
smooth and creamy but lake care not to let it boil. 
Taste for seasoning 

The cans of oysters meniioned in the preceding 
receipts are intended to mean the raw fresh oysters 
in cans. The cooked kind or cove oysters, however, 
make soups that are as good at least as meat soups. 
As this is a matter never mentioned in print before 
I will take oceasion to express the opinion that Ihe 
boarders in hotels are not so much annoyed at being 
served with canned "cove oyster" soup, which is 
good enough on its own merits, as tbey are by seeing 
it paraded as fresh oysters, which insults their rn 
demanding. Far inland where the raw cinned 
article is costly and rare the point of this is uuder 
stood. 

821. Brown Oyster Soup. 

(25 Plates.) 

Take the preceding receipt for quantities. While 
the fish stock is in preparation fry a small carrot, 
turnip and a piece of onion, all chopped small, in a 
little butter till brown, then put them in the boil- 
ing stock and let them cook in it some time longer 

Make some brown butter thickening (roux) by 
stirring together a cupful of butter and the same 
of flour in a frying pan and letting it bake brown in 
the oven. 

Strain off the fish stock into another kettle on the 
fire. Add the brown thickening, stirring lest it 
sink and burn on the bottom. Add ihe oyster liquor 
and draw the soup to the side of the range to slowly 
boil and clear itself by throwing up scum Putin 
the juice of a lemon nixed with a Ikilecold water 



and skim when the soup boils up again. A few min- 
utes before dinner time put the oysters into the soup 
and take off as soon as it once more begins to boil. 
If no anchovies have been used in the fish stock to 
heighten the flavor a spoonful of essence of ancho- 
vies may be added to the finished soup. 



Where the botile of white wine for the fish stock 
cannot be afforded the half cup of vinegar usually 
added to boiling fish answers the same purpose. 



For the sake of helping a general understanding 
of terms it may be worih while to notice lhat stew- 
ards and cooks who write bills of fare and think they 
must have a style attached to every article mimed 
mean the milk soup of the first receipt when they 
write it a la creme, and clam soups are designated 
the same. If we must give any opinion at all we 
say that it is sufficient in the hotel menu to write it 
simply oyster, or oyster soup. 



822. Clam Soups. 

Cut. the clams in four pieces and make the soups 
by the receipts for oy sier soups. The French soup, 
number 820, like a true fricassee thinned down, 
with it s dash of acid and partial thickening of egg 
yolks is better made with clams than with oysters. 

823. Clam Chowder Soup. 

Not to be confounded with chowder proper any 
more than oyster soup is oyster stew. It is a popular 
kind, and that is the ^only criterion our articles' 
worth is ever measured by. It is essential, to make 
a good looking soup, that the clams be neatly cut 
after Bcalding, into pieces the size of beans, and not 
chopped into tatters. 

4 dozen clams, or 3 cans. 

4 quarts of clear soup stock. 

1 quart of raw potatoes cut in dice. 

1 pint of broken crackers. 

3 slices of ham. 

1 medium onion, or h cupful chopped. 
Salt and pepper. 

2 quarts of milk, 

Parsley, or a green celery leaf. 

The soup stock should have been already flavored 
with vegetables in the stock boiler. Strain the re- 
quired amount and set it over the fire. 

Fry the piecs of ham at the side of the range 
brown on both sides, put them into the stock, with- 
out the grease and let boil in it foi flavor, also, add 
the onions. Scald the clams in their own liquor a 
minute or two ; take them out, pour the liquor to 
the soup through a fine strainer, and cut the clams 
in small pieces Thirty minutes before dinner throw 
in the potatoes and seasoning of salt and pepper and 
take out the ham slices (which are no more needed 



234 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



in the soup), and skim as it begins to boil agiio. 
Add the clams and boil a few miuutes, and the cup- 
ful of crackers and chopped parsley and the milk 
which should be already boiling. 



The care required is to have the potatoes done 
and not boiled away, and the crumbled crack er- 
just dissolved in the soup without making it too 
thick. 



Nothing promotes the enjoyment of a dinner so 
much as a happy knack of plain seasoning in the 
cook. Very common food can be made to excite the 
appetite and seem equal to the better description by 
a judicious use of pepper and salt only. It is very 
well to talk about leaving it to the people (o do their 
own seasoning, but in fact there is a different taste 
and finer flavor to articles that have been cooked 
with pepper, especially black pepper, than when 
they are sprinkled with the raw. In combination 
with potatoes, with cooked crackers and with flour 
the difference is especially noticeable. And half the 
people forget or are too indifferent to season the 
things set before them at table; they do not stop to 
analyze the qualities of the viands but carry away a 
sense that one dinner suits them and another does 
not. The question often arises, particularly con- 
cerning oysters. Discretion is needed and to keep 
on the safe side, but skill in seasoning is a great 
point in cooking. 



824. Oyster Stew. Milk Stew. 

Cook the oysters and the milk in separate sauce- 
pans. Dip the oysters from the saucepan into the 
bowl, add a ladleful of milk and a small piece of 
fresh butter. Serve crackers, butter and shred cab- 
bage separately with the stew. 

Oysters do not always curdle the milk when boiled 
in it, but there is always a danger that they may, so 
the rule is not to run auy risk. Besides, to cook 
the oysters in the milk although good for flavor al- 
ways makes a dingy looking stew with a scum on 
top. To obtain the best quality and appearance boil 
some oyster liquor separately and keep it ready for 
orders. As it reaches boiling point the scum on top 
can be Bkimmed off and after that pour it through a 
fine strainer iuto a clean saucepan, and you have the 
oyster essence clear and ready for use without detri- 
ment to the appearances. 



It is with cooking an oyster as with cooking an 
egg. It may be either soft boiled or hard boiled, 
only there is the difference that an oyster boiled 
hard is spoiled. To cook oysters for stews set some 
of the liquor that has been boiled on in a little sauce- 
pan and drop iu the oysters with a fork. Add a 
pinch of salt and pepper, shake them back and 



forth while healing and as soon as the liquor fairly 
boils they are done. Time about 3 miuutes for 1 
stew. 



825. Plain Stew. 

The oysters cooked as above with the liquor only 
served with them, and no milk. 

826. Dry Stew. 

(Restaurant Order) 

The same :is plain stew without the liquor, or wiu 
only a spojnful. 



827. Boston Fancy Stew. 

(Restaurant Order.) 

The milk stew with a slice of buttered toast float- 
ing in it and the cysters on the toast. Use a large, 
shallow bowl, put the square of toast in it first, drain 
the liquor of the stew into it and place the oysters 
neatly. 



828. Oysters Single Breaded and 
Fried in Butter 

(Restaurant Order.) 

Not neoessary to use eggs. Drop the oysters into 
a plate of cracker meal and give them a good coaling. 
careful not to rub it off a-i it will not stick a second 
time. Drop an ounce of butter in the frying pa", 
and when melted lay in the oysters close together. 
Cook over a brisk fire to get a brown on one tide 
without hardening them. Lay a small plale upside 
down on the oysters, turn over the pan, then slide 
the cake of oysters from the plale into the pan agaiu 
without letting them break apart and brown ihc 
other side Serve on the plate set in another plate. 
Ornament with lemon and parsley. There are oval 
shaped pans for such sautees as this to be in shape 
for a platter. 

829. Fried Oysters. Single Breaded. 

Dry the oysters by pressing with a napkin. Drop 
them into beaten egg, in which is a little salt, and 
out of that into cracker meal. Give them a good 
coating by pressing, with care not to rub, or leuve a 
bare place for the grease to get in. Drop them singly 
into a frying pan of hot lard. Fry brown in 2 or 3 
minutes. Dish neatly iu the middle of a hot platter 
with a piece of lemon and sprigs of parsley. 

830. Fried Oysters. Double Breadec*. 

Out of their own liquor into cracker-meal, coat 
well, dip in beaten egg and th n in cracker meal 
again. Fry 4 or 5 minutes. Oyslers look twice as 
largo as they really are, when double breaded. 



THE AMBKICAN OOOK. 



235 



Various fancies are made known by different peo 
pie in regard to fried oysters, the commonest being a 
preference for corn meal to dip them in iostead of 
cracl">r-meal. Fried oysters can never be made to 
look very well in that way and they are only Berved 
so when so ordered One h tel-keoper. of consider- 
able traveling experience, used to say the best 
he ever ate were breaded with white of egg and 
cracker-meal and patted down flit, then served set 
on edge wi'h very small and thin pieces of buttered 
toast between, like so many Iamb chops set up on a 
dish. Where large quantities are fried for hotel meals 
tbey are generally double breaded and all available 
bands called in to help with that somewhat tedious 
operation, a pile of cracker-meal being spread upon 
the tahlc and the remainder of it sifted to be put 
away for the next occasion A large ami deep meat 
pan is set on the range and half filled with lard, the 
oysters shaken in out of a large pan or colander 
aud when done — there can be only a few at a time 
fried satisfactorily — taken out with a skimmer and 
drained in another colander, or, better still, on seives. 
Six or eight to a dish are enough, and there should 
be a squeezable piece of lemon, or two, of them to 
each dish. 



Fried oysters are expensive over the other methods 
of cooking because of the lard destroyed. At the 
end of a meal the cracker sediment will have made 
the lard used dark and unfit for further use, and if 
clarified of that there still remains a sort of mucilage 
from the oysters that makes the lard boil over like 
butter melting, and almost useless. Consequently 
the charge for fries is, and has to be, higher than 
for other styles. 



831 Broiled Oysters, Bread-Crumbed 

The original meaning of breading has nearly been 
forgotten, to much better for most purposes is the 
meal of crushed and sifted crackers than graed dry 
bread. But the smallnessof the demand for breaded 
oysters broiled — way that over the water is consid- 
ered most delicate — is pi oof that cracker-meal is not 
the thing for it. 

Oysters breaded in cracker.meal, then broiled, 
unless they are deluged with butter, are more like 
d'scolored pieces of huckskiu than anything eatable. 

Grate a stale loaf cf bread or else mince the thin 
s ices extremely fine with a knife. Shake the oys 
ters about in a little beaten egg, dip them in the 
bread crumbs and ge tly press a coating on both 
sides. It is betLr to let them lie in the crumbs 
awhile if there is time. 

Brush the wire oyster broiler with a brush dipped 
in butter, place the oysters, shut down the other side 
and as soon as the egg is set with the heat of the 
bright coals baste the oysters on both sides with the 
same brush in butter. Get a toast-brown on both sides 



without oooking the oysters too much. Serve on a 
dish the same as fried oysters, with a piece of lemon 



832 Plain Broiled Oysters on Toast. 

Take the largest oysters obtainable. Brush th e 
wire oyster broiler with softened butter, lay in the 
oysters and broil over a hot fire 2 or 3 minu'es, 
basting once on each side with the butter brush. 
Dish side by side on one long slice of buttered toast 
in a dish. Garnish with lemon and parsley. 



Where silver-plated griddles and silver wire broil- 
ers are used it is practicable to dispense with the 
butter basting altrgetl er, and prevent sticking by 
rubbing the bars with chalk. Some of the greatest 
restaurants of the two continents have had a sort of 
specialty in this line, and probably proved not only 
the desirableness but the real economy of the mode. 

833. Oyster Omelet. 
(Restaurant Order.) 

6 oysters. 

2 eggs. 

1 large basting spoonful of milk. 

Seasonings. 

Cook the oysters rare done in a little saucepan 
separately, with a spoonful of milk, scrap of butter 
and thickening to make white sauce of the liquor. 

Break the 2 eggs in a bowl, put in a spoonful of 
milk and beat with the wire egg whisk. Add a pinch 
of salt. 

Shake a tablespoonful of melted lard about in the 
omelet frying pan and before it gets very hot pour in 
the omelet and let it cook rather slowly. 

Properly made omelets are not exactly rolled up, 
but there is a knack to be learned of shaping them in 
the pan by shaking while cooking into one Bide of 
it, the side firtbest from you, while you keep the 
handle toward you raised higher. Loosen the edges 
with a knife when it is nearly cooked enough to 
shake. 

When the omelet is nearly done to the center 
place the oysters with a spoon in the hollow middle 
and pull over the further edge to cover them in. Slide 
on to the dish, smooth side up. Garnish with pars- 
It y and lemon. 

One reason of omelets and all fried eggs sticking 
to the frying pan is allowing the pan to get too hot. 
They seldom stick when poured into a pan that is 
only kept warm till wanted. The pans should be 
kept for no other purpose, and be rubbed smooth 
after using, if not bright. 



Scalloped or escaloped oysters (either is right) 
should mean oysters cooked in theii shell, but there 
are several ways commonly practiced of escaloping 



230 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



oysters of which we give f air. The best way muet 
be that which suits the particular case. The large 
pan is the quickest, for hotel dinners, but the same 
thing of individual dimensions is served in many 
restaurants. The half shell method is the most 
stylish, and the most tedious for large numbers. 



834. Escaloped Oysters. Large Pan. 

The thing to be guarded against is the getting it 
all bread and dry and hard and fjr that reason un- 
eatable. These proportions make it right. 

8 dozen oysters and their liquor. 

12 ounces of butter. 

2 pounds of flue bread and cracker crumbs mixed. 

1 pint of milk. Pepper and salt. 

Use a shallow 4-quart milk pan. Spread a little 
of the butter all over the bottom and cover that with 
a layer of the mixed bread crumbs. 

Scald the oysters in their liquor just enough to 
make them shrink a little and place half of them 
close together on the layer of crumbs. Then more 
crumbs, butter dropped about in Bmall pieces, pep- 
per and salt; then the rest of the oysters and cover 
with the remaining bread crumb9 and butter. Mix 
the milk with the oyster liquor, strain it into the 
pan, moistening the top all over. Bake from 20 to 
30 minutes. 



The same thing as the foregoing can be baked in a 
shallow baking pan only one layer deep, but »eeds 
very quici baking to be good. 



835. Scalloped Oysters. 

(Restaurant Party.) 

Caked on a platter of a size according to number. 

Put a border of mashed potato forced like a thick 
cord through a paper cornet all around the inner 
rim of the platter to hold in the liquor. The inside 
scooped out of baked potatoes is often the available 
thing for this. 

Cover the bottom of the dish with finely minced or 
grated bread crumbs. Scald the oysters slightly iu a 
saucepan and then placo them close together on the 
layer of crumbs. Continue till the dish is piled up 
in the middle and rounded, with the butter, salt 
and pepper as in the preceding receipt, then mix the 
oyster liquor with a little milk and strain over the 
top. Wipe the edges of the dish dry. Bake to get 
a quick brown on top, on the top shelf of the oven. 



Silver dishes are the better for such uses. The 
above way and the next destroys white dishes after 
a few times, but not so rapidly if they are wiped 
perfectly dry and clean before baking. 



836. Scalloped Oysters. 

(Individual Orders). 

In snm'l deep dishes, same way as shirred eggs. 
A few bread crumbs in the dish, (3 to 12 oysters, 
bread crumbs spread thinly over them, butter on 
top and bake on the top shelf in a hot oven. 



837. Scalloped Oysters on Half Shell. 

Select oysters of good shape for this — Blue Points, 
Sco ch coves, or Shrewsburys. Loosen them entirely 
from the shell or they will draw to one side. Dredge 
fine bread crumbs in the shell, replace the oyster, 
cover with bread crumbs and bake by the panful on 
the top shelf. When lightly browned pour a tea- 
spoonful of melted fresh butter over each one, moist- 
ening the crumbs with it. 

It hastens the browning to have the bread dry 
already. Serve 4 or 5 to an order with a quarter of 
a lemon in the center of the dish. 



838. Scalloped Clams on Half Shell. 

Take the clams out of the shells and scald them 
slightly in their own liquor. Replace them in the 
half shell, pepper and salt, and then cover with fine 
bread crumbs, and bake quickly. Make a little 
white sauce of the clam liquor mixed with cream 
and a little butter and spoonful of flour thickening, 
and pour a spoonful of it over the clam in the shell 
when it has become browned. Serve same as oys. 
ters, on a small fish plate, with a piece of lemon. 



839. Oysters— Shell Roast. 

A bright and glowing charcoal fire is requisite for 
this. The oyster ranges are nearly all broiler and 
the bars are near the coals. Wash the oysters with 
a brush in water. Lay them on the broiler, flat 
side down, and endeavor to get the shell so hot as to 
slightly color the oyster. When the ehell begins to 
open turn it over. Dish up in the deep shell, the 
other removed entirely, and if too dry pour over 
eaoh one a small spoonful of hot oyster liquor and 
butter mixed. Serve a dozen on a platter, a half on 
a fish plate, with lemon. 



840. Oysters— Fancy Roast. 

(Restaurant Order.) 

Cut two slices of buttered toast to fit a medium 
sized platter, when placed end to end, or cut fancy 
shapes of toast that when placed together will form 
a star shape. 

Pvoast the oysters in the shells. Take them out 
when done and place them on the toast and pour 
some hot oyster liquor mixed with ere im over the 
toast and in the dish. Garnish with par-ley. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



237 



841. Oysters— Pan Roast. 

An imitation of the shell roast. 

1. Put 12 or 13 oysters in a bright pie pan, wilh 
their liquor. Dredge with salt auil pepper very 
sparingly. Drop in some small lumps of butler and 
bake on the top shelf of a hot oven from 3 to 5 min- 
uses Slide Ihem right side up into a hot dish, and 
garnish with 1 or 2 quarlers of lemon. 

2. A very common way in restaurants is to merely 
slew the oysters in a bright lin pan holding only about 
a pint, slightly season, and serve them in the same 
pan set in a plate. And, further, ia the same style 
neat lids are used that til the pans, to be placed 
when the oysters are done and sent in so. There is 
no difference, except in the imagination, betwixt 
that and a dry stew. 



842. Steamed Oysters. Shells. 

Scrub the oysters clean in water. Place the deep 
shell side down in the steamer and steam them about 
5 minutes. Take off the top shell and save as much 
of the liquor as possible wilh the oyster iu the lower 
one. Serve on a platter without seasoning or any 
addition, except lemon in quarters. 



843. Oyster Pie. Individual. 

A very popular sort of oyster pie is made with a 
bottom and top crust of short paste in a pie pan, 
like a fruit pie, but in size no larger than a tea saucer 
if to hold but a dozen medium oysters for a single 
order. Bake a few ahead of orders and keep them 
warm. Serve on a plate with hot oyster stew liquor 
poured under. 



844. Oyster Pie or Pot Pie. Cheapest. 

Put 4 quarts of small oysters pretty well drained 
from their liquor into a G quart bright pan and cover 
them with a sheet of good biscuit dough, or with a 
pot-pie dough made of a quart of flour, 3 teaspoon, 
fuls of baking powder, salt and waler and no short- 
ening, but mixed up and rolled out very soft. 

Bake about twenty minutes and then introduce at 
one side a seasoning of salt and pepper, a small piece 
of butter, a cupful of milk and a large spoonful of 
flour thickening. Stir about, replace the piece of 
crust and bake a short time longer. Sells well iu 
restaurants where regular dinner is served. The 
crust should be as light as a sponge and lightly 
browned. 



845. Small Oyster Pie 

(Hotel Entree.) 



2 ounces of butter. 

2 ounces of flour, 

Cayenne, salt, parsley. 

Puff paste for the crusts. 

Set the oysters over the fire to scald but take off 
before they boil. B dl the milk by itself. Mix Ihe 
butter and flour together in a saucepau big enough 
to hold all the rest, and when it bubbles up on the 
range begin stirring in the milk, thus making a 
thick white sauce. Let it boil up, stirringconslanlly 
Season with cayenne and salt. Take the oysters out 
of their liquor and put them in the white sauce, and 
then Btir in a little chopped parsley. 

For the crusts roll out a sheet of puff paste quite 
thin, cut out fiats with an oval cutter or biscuit cul- 
ler bent to shape, and bake them on a baking Bheet. 
When to be served split them. Dish a spoonful of 
oysters on the bottom half and place the other crust 
on top. 



846. Oyster Patties or Bouchees. 

For directions for making puff paste and vol-au- 
vents or patty cases, see Nos. 28 and 72. 

Prepare the oysters as in the preceding arlicle, 
hut make a yellow sauce for them by thickening wilh 
8 yolks of eggs in lieu of part of the flour. The 
sauce must not quite boil after the yolks are added. 
At the last squeeze in the juice of a lemon. Take 
the lids out of the patties, fill with oysters, replace 
the lid and garnish with a sprig of parsley. 



It may be hardly necessnry (o mention that th e 
two oyster patty fillings above are suitable in other 
forms of patties. As to the names the oysters in 
white sauce are a la bechamel because cream sauce 
is so named, and the patties filled with the yellow 
are usually dubbed a la princesse. The particular 
exercise of taste and judgment required is to get the 
sauce9 just thick enough to coat the oysters and not 
run out of the patties, and yet not like a paste. The 
yellow sauce is thickest about one minute after the 
yolks are added and gets thinner and poorer after- 
wards. 



2 quarts of oysters. 

3 cupfuls of milk. 



847. Oysters in Cases. 

Either of the oyster patty mixtures may be used 
with the difference that the oysters must be cut in 
small pieces after (he scalding and btfore they are 
put into the sauce. A little anchovy sauce may be 
added. Serve a spoonful in each little paper case 
and hand around hot. Paper cases can be bought 
by the dozen. They should be brushed slightly with 
clear butter and allowed to stand in the oven a min- 
ute before the filling. These huitns en caisse are 
served at luncheons, and as appetisers, after the 
,soup at dinner. 



238 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



848. Oysters in a Loaf. 

{Restaurant Order.) 

Take a loaf that hag been baked in a tin mokl, 
such as the bakers sell ; cut off the top crust and lay 
it aside, remove most of the inside crumb, then cm 
the edge inlo ornamental notches or saw tooth fash 
ion all around Spread a Utile soft butler inside 
with the back of a spoon and set the loaf in the 
oven to toast. The top generally gets browned 
enough by the lime the buttered inside is hot. Make 
an oyster stew in the usual way but dredge in a few 
fine bread crumbs to pari i illy thicken it. Pour into 
the hot crisped loaf on a dish, no cover. 



849. The loaf above becomes a croustade when it 
is fried in hot lard or clarified butler, and pan roasts 
with their liquor and butler are sometimes served 
in croustudes, so are fried oysters. 

Fur individual lutel entrees the method is to use 
plain round rolls with the inside scooped out and fill 
with either of the oyster pdiy prepirations. Or else 
to cut slices of bread in fancy shapes, fry and place 
three or four as a border iu the dish and the oyster 
preparation in the middle. 

The next is a method not at all especial for oysters 
since any other savory filling may be used, but the 
croustade small belongs to the class of hors d'oeuvre 
like the cases and patties that are served between 
courses These cannot be recommended for large 
dinners, fur though they need not be really wasteful 
they certainly have the appearance of being so. This 
is one of the methods of what is called fine cookery. 

850, Croustad.es of Oysters. 

Make some balls of c Id butter by working ihem 
in ioe water in a bowl, and shape them like eggs, or 
round or flattened or canoe shaped. Roll them in 
very fine bread crumbs, then in beaten eggs with a 
little milk mixed in, then in cracker meal ; then in 
egg and cracker meal again. In short, you double 
bread the balls of butler after first giving them a 
solid coat of bread crumbs. 

After rolling up the outside smooth in plenty of 
cracker meal drop the balls in hot lard and fry like 
any other breaded article to a deep yellow color. 
Take them out, cut out a circular piece of the top 
turn the croustade upside down and let all the bul- 
ter run out, or if-not all melted take it out with a 
teaspoon. Drain well from grease, keep the cases 
crisp and hot, and when to be served fill them with 
oyster piity preparation the same as for cises, with 
I he oysters cr.t small, replace the lids and serve. 
Garnish with lemon and parsley. Take care in 
making the balls of butter to have them small, for 
the breading increases the size greatly. Large sizes 
can, however, be made for restaurant parties. 



851. Oysters Broiled in Bacon. 

Dredge some large oysters with pepper and squeeze 
the juice of a lemon over them. 

Cut large s'ices of fat bacon as thin as possible. 
Roil up two oysters together in»each slice, ruu a 
skewer through diagonally and put six such rolls on 
each skewer crowded together to allow for shrinkage. 
Bako in the lop of the oven for a few minutes, the 
skewers resting on the edge of a pan with the oys- 
ters raised above the drippings. Finish on the 
broiler. Serve on the skewers on buttered toast in 
a dish, fmd if common skewers are used slip a ring 
of fringed paper on the end. 



Oyster sauce is the bait that catches the most 
people, and where the cheapest sort does so well 
there is little encouragement to try the artistic. 

852. "White Oyster Sauoe— Common. 

Take a quart of your fish soup or the liquor the 
fish is boiling in and pour it hot to about 3 dozen 
oysters. Drain it then from the oysters through a 
colander and boil it. Skim, stir in a large spoonful 
or two of flour-ai d water thickening, a little salt 
and then the oysiers. Take off as soon as it begins 
to boil again. 

853. White Oyster Sauce— Good. 

1 level cupful of fresh butter. 

1 level cupful of flour. 

4 dozen oysters and their liquor. 

1 quart of fish slock or soup stock. 

1 lemon, cayenne, salt. 

Stir the butter and flour together in o. snuce pan 
over tha fiie till the mixture is hot and bubbling. 
Pour the quart of stock (or water) over the oysters 
in a colander set in a pan, and when it has run 
through add it a little at a time to the butter and 
flour. Stir up smooth and let it boil It should be 
thicker than sauce, and the oysters now to be added 
should thin it to the proper degree. As soon as it 
begins to boil again take from the fire Stir in a 
small lump of cold butter, the juice of the lemon 
and pinch of cayenne, and do not let the oysters 
cook hard. 

854. Brown Oyster Sauce. 

When to be served with baked fish or with roaBt 
turkey the very best is made by first making a gravy 
in the pan from which the fish (or turkey) has just 
been removed, and after straining adding the oysters 
to it. If not convenient to do that bake the butter 
and flour of the preceding receipt together in a fry- 
ing pan in the oven till brown through, and use it 
to thicken the quart of stock. Add a tablespoonful 
of caramel for eolor, and the same of anchovy 
sauce. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



23!) 



855. Oyster Stuffing for Turkeys and 
Fish. 

3 or 4 dozen oysters. 

1 quart of crushed oyster crackers. 

1 quart of fine bread crumbs. 
8 ounces of butter. 

2 eggs. Pepper and salt. 

To get the bread finely crumbled it is best to slice 
thin and then mince it. The mixture of bread and 
crackers is much better than bread alone. Stir the 
Boftened butter, the liquor from the oysters and the 
two eggs into the crumbs and season to taste. Then 
mix in the oysters whole. Stuff the fowl loosely, 
that the filling may absorb the gravy. Enough for 
one large turkey or two geese or large fowls. 



856, Scalloped Oysters in Silver Shells. 

And now, since writing the receipts a little way 
back for scalloped oysters, thinking it best not to 
mention the silver scallop shells which cost §48 per 
dozen, with the air of the king's cook setting people 
to wishing for things it is not good for them to have 
I have discovered that there are upon the market 
very good imitations stamped from heavy tin that 
are entirely practicable and with care to keep the 
edges dry while baking, and careful polishing, may 
be kept bright and presentable a long time. They 
cost §3 per dozen ; are in scallop shell shape and 
hold ab .at as much as a small tea saucer, but have 
more depth. They are calculated for an individual 
dish of half a dozen oysters scalloped. So, to re- 
state it for convenience sake, take 

6 or 7 dozen oysters. 

1 pound of fine bread crumbs. 

1 pound of crushed oyster crackers. 

12 ounces of butter. 

1 pint of milk. 

Pepper »nd salt. 

Soften the butter and brush a coating of it over 
the bottom of the shells and strew in a layer of the 
mixed bread and cracker crumbs. 

Shake the oysters about in a pan over the fire to 
make them shrink a little without boiling, take out 
with a drainer and place 5 or 6 in each scallop. 
C iver with the crumbs. Mix the butler with the 
hot oyster liquor, add the milk, pepper and salt to 
taste, and divide it by spoonfuls into the 15 or 18 
scallops, moistening the crumbs all over. Wipe the 
edgeB clean. Bake on the middle shelf of the range. 



857. Oyster Kromeskies. 

Little pieces of a sort of croquette mixture rolled 
in thin shaved slices of bacon and fried in batter. 
1 quart of oysters and their liquor. 
1 pint of minced chicken meat. 
1 cupful of milk. 
h cupful of flour — 2 ounces. 



Butter size of an egg. 

4 yolks of eggs. 

Black pepper, salt, little cayenne. 

Juice of half a lemon. 

50 little wraps of parboiled fat bacon. 

Frying batter. 

Scald the oysters first in their own liquor, take 
out with a skimmer and cut them small. Mince the 
chicken as if for salad, in the B mallest possible dice. 
Melt the butter and flour together as if for butter 
sauce, and when it bubbles stir in the oyster liquor 
and the milk. Add the minced chicken and season- 
iog and stir till boiling hot agiin, put in the four 
yolks and when they have further thickened the 
mixture add the cut up oysters and then spread it 
in a bright pan brushed with butter, and let it get 
quite cold on ice. 

Cut in strips the thickness of fingers, divide in 
two-inch lengths, roll up in bacon very thin, dip in 
fine frying batter and fry like fritters. Serve in 
place of patties, hot, with fried parsley 



For directions for making the finest frying batter 
for the above see No. 252. Am. Pastry Cook, com- 
mon, for oysters and clam fritters, No. 253. 

858. Oyster Fritters. 

Scald the oysters first, or they will Bhrink too 
much, but they need not actually boil. Brain, 
sprinkle with pepper and salt and drop them into a 
pan of frying batter. Take two or three together 
with the batter coating them, and push from the 
spoon into hot "lard. Very large oysters to be fried 
in batter singly without previ us scalding should be 
dried first between two towels and dipped in the 
finest frying batter. They are done whenever the 
outside has acquired a yellow color. Serve same as 
fried oysters. 

859. Clam Fritters. 

The same as oyster fritters preceding. They are 
better with a cream sauce poured over. 



860. Scallops in Batter — Marseillaise. 

Scallops, the shell fish, not being universally 
known are often in an explanatory way designated 
New York scallops in the hotel bill cf fare. Scallops 
of a smaller sort are known on the other side of 
the Atlantic as cockles. Our scallops, not gene' ally 
eaten raw, come to market in bulk without the shells. 
They are the little cream eo'ored lumps seen in 
tubs at the fish shops. They have the tenderness of 
the oyster but the taste of tl.-e quahog. 

Take 4 dozen scollops drained from their liquor, 
dredge with pepper and salt and squeeze the juice 
of a large lemon over them, and let remain in the 
pickle an hour or two. Make the fine fryiDg baiter 



240 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



(No. 252). Male ready some lard, hot enough to 
just begin to smoke. Drain the scallops on a seive, 
take up two at a time with a spoon, dip them in the 
batter and coat them well, and fry for 2 or 3 minutes. 
Drain them on paper and keep hot. 

Mash 2 cans of French peas (or use any other 
peas that are green) through a gravy strainer and 
season the puree thus obtained with butter, pepper 
and salt. Spread a small spoonful in each small 
dish, place two of the scallop fritters on the puree 
and serve hot. 

Scallops may also be cooked in most of the ways 
that oysters are done, stewed, fried or roasted. 



The process for the following is the same as for 
the yellow oyster preparation for patties at No. 840. 
Familiarity with one makes the other easy. 



And it is here in place to mention that while a 
large piece of bread cut into a hollow shape and 
fried is culled a crouslade, as was stated a little way 
back, small pieces cut in shapes, such as may be 
used to ornament with, or to serve instead of toast 
with clams, etc., are called croutons. 



861. Fricasseed Clams on Toast. 

4 dozen clams and their liquor. 
6 yolkB of eggs. 

1 pint of milk. 

2 ounces of butter. 
1 ounce of flour. 

1 lemon, cayenne, salt. 

Boil the milk. Take the clams from their shells 
and soald in their own liquor, drain them from it 
and cut them in pieces. Strain the clam liquor into 
the milk, add a spoonful of thickening, the butter, 
and the yolks slightly beaten, and the salt and cay. 
enne to taste. Squeeze in the juice of the lemon. 
Then put in the cut clams. Dish spoonfuls on 
toast cut in neat shapes, or on fried crusts. 



Which of these two mollusks has the beat of it 
after all, the oyster, for which the regard is great 
but wholly gustatory, or the clam, for which the re- 
gird is more than half sentimental? Sorry indeed 
we all are that it is so, tor we care nothing for the 
oyster further than that it is good to eat, but a hun- 
dred barrels of oysters may be sold as soon as one 
barrel of clams, and yet one far inland, homesick for 
a taste of the salt sea, will find it in the just opened 
shell of a small quahog or a large little neck as no- 
where else, and not in the oyster at all, for the latter 
thrives most and fattens fastest where there is a mix- 
ture of fresh water with salt But as if to offset 
this inequality in its market value the clam has got 
itself somehow mixed up with all the New England 
history, tales and traditions to such an extent that it 



can never be left out or disregarded or forgotten, so 
that even if we caunot eat the clam it interests us, 
and we wish it well and grieve because it is not as 
good as the oyster, and never can be. To learn 
something more about it let us quote from Thoreau, 
exploring the clam grounds of Cape Cod, like a 
Layard on the site of another Nineveh: 

"There were, here and there, heaps of shells in 
the fields where clams had been opened for bait; for 
Orleans is famous for its she'.l-fish, especially clams. 
The shores are more fertile than the dry land. The 
inhabitants measure their crops, not only by bushels 
of corns, but by barrels of clams. A thousand bar- 
rels of clam-bait are counted as equal in value to 
six or eight thousand bushels of Indian corn, and 
once they were procured witout more labor or ex- 
pense, and the supply was thought to be inexhaust. 
tble. 'For,' runs the history, 'after a portion of the 
shore has been dug over, and almost all the clams 
taken up, at the end of two years, it is said they 
are as plenty there as ever. It is even affirmed 
by many persons, that it is as necessary to stir clam 
ground frequently, as it is to hoe a field of potatoes 
because, if this labor is omitted, the clams will be 
crowded too closely together, add will be prevented 
from increasing in size ' But we were told that the 
small clam, mya arenaria, was not so plenty here as 
formerly. Probably the clam-ground has been stirred 
too frequently, after all. Nevertheless oneman, who 
complained that they fed pigs with them and so made 
them scarce, told me that he dug and opened one 
hundred and twenty-six dollars worth in one winter, 
in Truro." 

Again: "We found some large clams, of the species 
maclra solidissima, which the storm bad torn up from 
the bottom, and cast ashore. I selected one of the 
largest, about six inches in length, and carried it 
along, thinking to try an experiment on it. We soon 
after met a wrecker with a grapple and a rope. * * 
He also told us that the clam which I had was the 
sea clam or hen, and was good to eat. We took our 
nooning under a sand-hill, covered with beach-grass, 
in a dreary little hollow, on the bank, while it alter, 
nately rained and shined. There, having reduced 
some damp drift-wood, which I had picked up on the 
shore, to shavings with my knife, I kindled a fire 
and cooked my clam on the embers for my dinner; 
for breakfast waB oommonly the only meal which I 
took in a house on this excursion. When the clam 
was done one valve held the meat and the other the 
liquor. Though it was very tough, I found it sweet 
and savory, and ate the whole with a relish. In- 
deed, with the addition of a cracker or two, it would 
have been a bountiful dinner. I noticed that the 
shells were such as I had seen in the sugar-kit at 
home. Tied to a stick, they formerly made the In. 
dians hoe hereabouts " 

"The old man said the great«lams (long necks) 
were good to eat, but they always took out a certain 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



241 



part which was poisonous, before they cooked them. 
'People said it would kill a cat.' I did not tell him 
I had eaten a large one entire that afternoon, but be- 
gan to think that I was tougher than a cat. In the 
course of the evening I began to feel the potency of 
the clam which I had eaten, and I was obliged to 
confess to our host that I was no tougher than the 
cat he told of; but he answered, that he was a plain- 
spoken man, and he could tell me that it was all 
imagination. At any rate it proved an emetic in my 
case, and I was made quite sick by it for a short 
time, while he laughed at my expense. I was pleased 
to read afterward, in Mourt's Relation of the land- 
ing of the Pilgrims in Provincetown Harbor, these 
words: 'We found great muscles (the old editor says 
that they were undoubtedly sea clams) and very fat 
and full of sea pearl ; but we could not eat them, 
for they made us all sick that did eat, as well sailors 
as passengers. But they were soon well again.' It 
brought me nearer to the Pilgrims to be thus re- 
minded by a similar experience that I was so like 
them" 

Having thus paid the tribute of a small space to 
tbe New England clam, let us proceed with our own 
narra'ive. For the large clams or "long necks" 
mentioned above come to market already strung on 
twine like old-fashioned dried apples. They are 
principally used for making clam chowder. They 
are strung through the "neck " and that part should 
be cut otf before they are cooked. 



862. Clam Chowder. 

About 1 quart of clams, or two cans. 

1 pound of salt pork. 

2 quarts of sliced raw potatoes. 

1 small onion. 

2 teaspoonfuls of salt. 

1 teaspoonful of pepper. 

1 quart of milk, and the clam liquor. 

About a pint of broken crackers. 

This will take a pan that holds 5 or 6 quarts, or 
two small ones. Cut the pork in dice, put it into the 
pan and bake it light brown. Take the pan out and 
strew some of the thin sliced potatoes all over the 
pork scraps and fat. Shave some slices of the onion 
over them, then half the clams, cut in small pieces* 
then more potatoes, onion, and the rest of the clams. 
Potatoes on top and the crushed crackers over all. 
Mix the quart of milk with the clam liquor, add the 
pepper and salt and pour it over the crackers. Brush 
a sheet of thick paper with a little meat fat, lay it 
on top of the chowder and bake in a moderate oven 
about 2 hours. It will be partly browned on top. 

More liquid may be needed if the chowder boils 
away fast. It is done whenever the potatoes in the 
center are done. Dish out spoonfuls on flat dishes. 



863. Fish Chowder. 

Fresh codfish and haddock make the best chowdei 
but any other kind that can be freed from hones 
will do. Proceed as for clam chowder wi'h the dif- 
ference that the potatoes should be boiled first, tha 
fish not needing much time to cook. Butter may be 
used instead of pork. 



We have heard that on the coast of France the fish 
houses serve a pot-pourri of the chowder description 
made of a mixture of all sorts of shell fish, scallops, 
muscles, periwinkles, oysters, whelks, etc., with ship 
pork and ship biscuit. 

Also | that the jambalaya of Florida is a mixture 
of different sorts of fish with tomatoes, peppers and 
rice, of a soup-like consistency. We have heard, too, 
of bisques of shell fish — soups thickened with the 
pounded meat of one kind of fish and several other 
kinds thrown in like plums into a pudding. And 
we have heard of clam chowder being made with 
tomatoes mixed in, and various high-flavored herbs 
besides. These things have to be mentioned be- 
cause, as hotel cooks, the whole boundless continent 
is ours to make chowder in any way that we please, 
but the old Wellfleet oysterman, once above men- 
tioned, we feel certain would never have owned that 
to be real chowder, and he should know, for all his 
world —as clams and oysters. 



864. Raw Oysters and Clams. 

The dealers now say that most of the popular 
names that oysters are sold by are but popular delu- 
sions, the Saddle Rock bed, for instance, having 
been exhausted twenty years ago, and the same with 
— but why should we meddle? The Morris Rivers 
oi the Scotch Coves, the Blue Points and Shrews- 
burys are all small and fat and of good shape to 
serve in the shell. And with all the devices of 
china, glass and ice to serve raw oysters in, they 
never have the same taste out of the shell that they 
have when first opened and sprinkled with the juice 
from half a lemon. Four, five or six of these small 
oysters make a plate to serve preliminary to the 
dinner; fashion, it is said, even interfering in this 
small matter and making the proper number at pres- 
ent four. See that the shells are clean before open- 
ing the oysters. Put tbe piece of lemon in the 
middle. 

"Counts," or New York counts, are the largest 
oysters sold by count and not by the gallon. "Culls" 
are the largest "selects." "Selects" are the ordin- 
arily large oysters, sold bygallon orcin. "Straights" 
come next and are supposed to be of all sizes unsorted. 
"Standards" are small oysters, and there is a grade 
below that known as "small." 



L'42 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



The "paper shell," or little neck clam and the 
quahog of small size are served raw in the half 
shell precisely the same as oysters, and are not pro- 
hibited in the summer months as ovsters are. 



While the alarm of a threatened scarcity of oys- 
ters is raised regularly every season it is reassur- 
ing to be told, in an article by Mr. Gaston Fay, 
"That the cultivation of the oyster is so well un- 
derstood, it is probable the supply will never cease 
Its deterioration or scarcity is due meiely to local 
causes, and a barren bed of to-day may so to speak, 
become a bonanza to marrow. " And that is written 
in the midst of a uumber of instances showing how 
rapidly such fishes as the striped bass, white percli 
and others are disappearing And to show for bow 
long a time oysters have already been abundant we 
will quote once more from Thoreau's Cape Cod, and 
then drop the subject for something else. 

"Also William Wood speaks, in his 'New England's 
Prospect,' published in 1634, of 'a great oyster 
bank' in Charles River, and of another in the Mis 
tick, each of which obstructed the navigation of the 
river. 'The oysters,' says he, 'be great ones in form 
of a shoe-horn; some be a foot long; these breed on 
certain banks that are bare every spring tide. This 
fish without the shell is so big that it must admit of 
a division before you can well get it into your 
mouth.' Oysters are still found there." 

Mussels, or muscles, (the dictionaries allow both 
ways of spelling) are to oysters on the British shores 
what c'ams are with us — the second rate shell fish. 
They hang in clusters on the rocks by a "beard," a 
mosB-like filament that has to be pulled off when they 
are cooked. Mussels are roasted in the shells, and 
steamed or boiled. 

The number of kinds of fish that are eattn being 
enormous it would be a most bewildering task to 
attempt a set of different ways of cooking each one, 
such as have been set forth as inventions of cooks 
aiming chiefly at ornamental effects. The inappli- 
cability of most of the elaborate foreign directions 
o hotel work is shown when we come to look over a 
few hundreds ot bills of fare, ranging from hotels of 
every class, and find that all the fishes are cooked in 
the half dozen common ways, varied by the changes 
of at the most, a dozen different sauces. 

Some of the "a la" styles do appear occasionally, 
but generally where the probabilities are altogether 
against the genuineness of the dish. Take, for in- 
stance the one that oftenest is seen, "a la Chambord." 
Chambord is a department or county in France, hav- 
ing an extent of sea coast, but probably a Count de 
Chambord was honored in naming the style A fish 
in that style is boiled, skinned, spread all over with 
a paste made of pounded fish, etc., and ornamented 



then put into a fish kettle and simmered in a bottle 
of champagne, and when dished, the cuisine class 
ique shows it. with six different compartments in the 
platter occup ; ed with as many different accessions of 
truffles, mushrooms, crayfish, oysters and other 
trifles, all separately prepared. Such dishes may 
appear at club dinners and for parlies to whom ex- 
pense is no object and where baskets of cham- 
pagne to cook fish in are as plenty as baskets of 
potatoes, but when such names appear in the menus 
of hotels wherein the fish is cut and served individ- 
ually there is reasonable ground for doubting its 
authenticity. 

This is prefatory to saying that we are going to 
take up the few ways of cooking fish and a few fishes 
for illustrations, and then will mention the others 
only to show their adaptability to either one method 
or the other. 



865. Fried Brook Trout with Bacon. 

Provide in an average way about one eight-ounce 
fish for each person, or each probable order, which 
will be about forty-nine out of fifty persons. Also a 
thin Blice of bacon for each one. Open the fish 
and clean them, wash and wipe dry with a coarse 
towel. The small fishes do not need scaling. Fry 
the slices of bacon well done in a deep baking pan 
in the oven, take them out with a skimmer. Roll 
the trout well in flour and fry them in the bacon fat 
in the same pan. Perhaps a little lard will have to 
be added. 

Trout take from G to 15 minutes to fry, according 
to size. Drain them thoroughly from grease in a 
pan tilted up at one end and set in the open oven. 
Serve a slice of bacon with each fish. 



It is a pleasant peculiarity of the speckled trout 
that the entire side or fillet parts readily from the 
spine, in one piece, not a bone remaining in the meat. 
Taking advantage of this the knowing ones have 
their trout fried in this way. 



866. Boned Trout Fried with Bacon. 

{Restaurant Order.) 

Take a trout that weighs about a pound, split it 
down the back, open and clean it, leaving the head 
and tail on but clipping off the fins, and take out 
the back bone. Score the skin in three places on 
each side. Pepper the fish slightly, place a thin 
slice of bacon inside, close up and tie the two aides 
together again with two or three turns of twine. 
Roll the fish in flour and fry in hot lard about 10 
minutes. Drain on a hot pan in the oven, take off 
the twine, dredge fine salt over, and serve in a hot 
dish with fried parsley and quarters of lemon, and 
minced potatoes in a side dish. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



243 



867- Fried Parsley. 

ODe of the most dsirable adjuncts to fried fish 
eerved without a sauce. Heat s"rae lard in the 
potato fryer, but not hot enough to smoke, for too 
much heat takes all the color out of parsley. Put the 
parsley in the wire basket and immerse it in the hot 
lard about 1 minute, when it should be crisp, but 
still green. Drain it on a sheet of paper, and set 
for a minute in the open oven. 

868. Minced Potatoes. 

Chop cold boiled potatoes quite fine and season 
with salt. Spread a spoonful of drippings or butter 
in an omelet pan or small frying pan and place the 
minced potatoes about an inch diep. Cook on top 
of the range like a cake, without 6tirring. Invert 
a plate that just fits the pan over the potatoes. Let 
them brown nicely and slowly, then turn over on 
to the plate. Push in the edge a little all around 
and serve on the same plate with the brown on top. 
There are oval-shaped pans that make these suitable 
for a platter, and even in the round frying pan it 
can be managed to give the cake the flatter shape. 



The fried bacon accompaniment to trout, bass, shad 
or perch is, however, very repugnant to some people. 
It is derived from the customs of the angler's camp 
life, and we find it never mentioned in the French 
methods of cooking fish, where even for larding 
several other things than bacon are used, except per- 
haps in the case of a dressing of a pike. The famous 
English white bait are simply rolled in flour, fried in 
hot lard, for only 1 minute, and eaten hot and 
crisp with nothing but salt. Every kind of small 
fish may be fried in the same way. 

Says Brillat Savarin: "Don't forget, however, 
when you have any of those (rout weighing scarcely 
more than a quarter of a pound, and fetched from 
streams that murmur far from the capital — don't 
forget, I say, to fry them in the very finest olive oil 
you have." This is the dish that he says properly 
served with slices of lemon is fit for a cardinal. 

This admiration for fish so small, "weighing 
scarcely more than a quarter of a pound," must be 
of the same kind as for whitebait, to be eaten bones 
and all. 

869. Plain Pried Trout with Saratoga 
Potatoes. 

Open and cleanse the trout, wash and dry them 
between two clean towels The fins retain tbeir red 
color afier frying; leave them on as well as the 
head and tail. Roll the fish in flour and let them 
lie awhile in a pan of flour to get a better coating 
Drop in hot lard and fry from 5 to 10 minutes ac- 



cording to size. Dish with a border of Saratoga 
potatoes around and a slice of lemon on top of the 
fish. 

870. Saratoga Chip Potatoes. 

The common broadly sliced and fried potatoes are 
not Saratogas. These are thinly shaved, almrst aB 
thin as paper. When cut in quantities before the 
meal, as they generally have to be, they must be 
kept covered with cold water to prevent turning 
black. It is hardly practicable to dry them on a cloth, 
as, it is said, the original Saratogas were, but they 
will drain dry enough in a seive or colander. Throw 
a few at a time into hot lard. When first thrown in 
they sink When they rise and float they are done, 
if colored enough. They should be yellow and 
curled. Good and mealy potatoes are required tr 
make good and crisp chips. Dredge a little salt or 
them after frying, not before. 



871. Brook Trout Breaded and Pried. 

Cleanse the trout, leave the Leads and tails on, 
chop off the fins, wash and wipe them dry with a 
olean rough towel. Beat some eggs — it. will proba- 
bly require about 2 dozen for fried fish for 50 — and 
add less than a fourth as much water, some salt and 
white pepper. Dip the fish in the egg, then in 
cracker meal, coat them well by pressing, and let 
them lie in a pan after breading, for a little while 
before you fry. Drop them in hot lard, or frying 
fat, or oil ; cook from 5 to 10 or 15 minutes accord- 
ing to size. Serve on a hot dish with a garnish of 
parsley and slices of lemon. 

872, Some General Remarks on Frying 
Fish. 

The speckled trout being always an expensive kind, 
and generally the most thought of by the anglers who 
bring them to the hotel to be cooked, we take it for 
example, as it must cften bo a source of disappoint- 
ment to see the expected feast of "speckled beau, 
ties" come to table looking anything but inviting. 
Most frequently the breading comes off in patches, 
and the fish instead of having a crisp coating, and a 
moist and full-flavored inside, looks black and greaBy. 
The breading comes off trout because, not needing to 
be scaled, it does not get scraped free of the fishi. 
ness that coats the skin. A vigorous rubbing with 
a rough cloth overcomes the difficulty, but the cloth 
becomes wet and useless after a dozen or so have 
been wiped. Either scrape the fish or have dry 
cloths plenty. The difference often seen betwixt the 
outside skin of a fish that is cut up before frying, 
and which comes out bare of breading, and the cut 
sides which remain coated, shows the above to be 
true. 



-•II 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



Rolling the fish in flour before dipping in egg in- 
sures a good coating, but we have not so direoted for 
the reason that it takes more eggs that way and 
uses up twice as much time before the egg will slick 
to the flour. These things count for a large number. 
There is nothing gained by filling the pans with too 
many fi^h at once. They reduce the heat of the 
fryiug fat and fry badly. The fat should be hot 
enough to hiss sharply when a drop of water touches 
it, but not hot enough to smoke. 

Not long since a remark appeared in a New York 
publication devoted to such subjects of a corres- 
pondent who said there is only one way to cook a 
speckled trout — meaning only one way that it ought 
to be cooked — and that was to roll it in egg and corn 
meal. That is a dashing, off hand way of stating 
a thiog but the one way wouldn't fit everywhere. 

There are people enough who like corn meal bread- 
ing better than cracker dust, but neilher cooks nor 
any one else will choose it where the appearance of 
the article fried is cared for. Pieces of bread dried 
in a warm place can be crushed into a sort of meal 
and used for breading, and it is economical to do so, 
but the color is bad even of that, and not like the 
golden brown of the cracker-meal breading. 



It is an advantage, when the fish has been nicely 
fried, to have it ornamented a little with parsley, 
young celery leaves, cress, water cress or cut lemons 
— whatever be obtainable — for it looks as if some- 
body cared for the appearance of the table, not for- 
getting that quartered lemons to squeeza over trout 
are a luxury. But there is seldom any one to do the 
garnishing at a fishing resort unless the waiters are 
allowed while waiting for their orders. They are 
generally anxious enough to "fix up" their dishes 
if the materials are placed ready, and the city hotel 
rules relaxed sufficiently. 



873. Plain Fried Potatoes. 

A good garnish for fried fish. Slice the potatoes 
thicker than Saratoga chips, and fry till they float 
and are yellow. Place them in the fish dish as a 
border. 



874. 



Pried Maokinaw Trout— Breakfast 
or Supper. 



Scale and cleanse the fish, split down the baok and 
take out the baok bone. Cut the fish in pieces, 
dredge with salt and pepper, roll the pieces well in 
flour and fry in hot fat. Time 8 or 10 minutes. 
Fish is best when just cooked through to the center 
and not dried out, unless when the order is for small 
fish done to a crisp 



875. Mackinaw Trout Pried in Eggs. 

Skin the trout, beginning at the gills. It can be 
done with a little help of a sharp knife. To dip the 
fish in hot water makes it easier. Take out the back 
bone. Cut the fish, if for breakfast, in suitable 
pieces, and dry them on a cloth. Dredge with salt. 

About one egg for every pound of fish is needed. 
Beat up without adding any water. Dip the fish in 
the egg, roll in flour, then in egg again and fry in 
lard not very hot. If carefully fried without too 
much heat fish looks richer this way than any other. 
It is of a yellow brown color. This is one of the 
methods for frying in sweet oil. Garnish with 
parsley. 



876. Fried Black Bass. 

For ordinary restaurant orders the fish should be 
seleoted weighing about one pound each. Scale and 
cleanse them, roll well in flour aud fry. For occa- 
sional orders it answers to fry them in a frying pan 
only half full of fat, care being taken that a black 
burnt section does not appear where the thick part 
of the fish touches the pan. G»rnish with sliced 
lemon, and fried or plain parsley, and potatoes. 

877. Broiled Trout with Bacon. 

Split a small trout and take out the baok bone and 
place a thin slice of bacon inside. Broil the trout 
in the wire broiler over a bed of clear coals. Gar- 
nish the dish with parsley, and send in a dish of 
saute potatoes. 



878. Potatoes Sautes, or Dutch Fried. 

Slice cold boiled potatoes, not very thin, and brown 
them in a large lrying pan, slowly, at the side of the 
range, with only enough frying fat in the pan to 
keep the bottom moist. When brown at bottom 
shake them over. Dredge a little salt. 



879. Broiled Trout, a la Colbert. 

Scrape and cleanse the trout and take out the 
back bone. Brush over with a touch of butter to 
prevent sticking and broil it in natural shape over 
clear coals. When done open the fish and put in a 
slice of maitre d'hotel butter. Garnish with lemon 
and fried parsley. If not inclosed in a wire broiler, 
or if a large fish in any case score the skin on both 
sides lo prevent curling. 



Simple as the word Colbert is I have recently 
seen it misspelt in two or three bills of fare. It 
is the name of a French statesman who kept 
good cooks and gave dinners. Maitre d' hotel is a 
clumsy term for us to use, and some are translating 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



245 



it steward, which it literally means, so that cold 
maitre d' hotel sauce, or butter, becomes steward 
sauce. An authority on cooking says the principle 
of cooking a la maitre d' hotel is in the mixture of 
acid with green herbs, which, however, is not ex- 
plaining much. Theie are two sauces of the name, 
and beside that there is a way of rolling a nicely 
boiled fish in chopped parsley and fennel, squeezing 
lemon juice all over it and then pouring a rich 
cream sauce around it, and it makes a very pretty 
dish wheu the fish is of a suitable sort, a shad, carp, 
or whitefish. 



880. 



Maitre d' Hotel Butter or Cold 
Sauce. 



8 ounces of butter. 

2 lemons — juice only. 

Small bunch of parsley. 

Little cayenne. 

Soften the butter, squeeze in the lemon juice a 
little at a time, stirring till the butter absorbs it, add 
the cayenne and the parsley chopped small. Keep 
in a cold place. 



S81. Broiled Whitefish. 

Take small ones for choice, scale, trim, split them 
in halves, take out the back bone and divide eaoh 
half in two. Wash in cold water and dry them. 
Lay on a plate and brush over with the butter brush. 
Broil in the hinged wire broiler over a clear fire, till 
brown on both sides. Brush over with butter again, 
dredge.with fine salt, send to table hot, with potatoes. 



882. Frizzed or Shoestring Potatoes. 

Slice raw potatoes thin and cut them in shreds, in 
size from a shoestring to a pencil, but all alike, and 
the longer the better. Fry in hot lard. Drain and 
sprinkle with salt. Serve as a border with broiled 
fish. 

883. Broiled Striped Bass. 

Scile, cleanse, split in halves and take out the 
back bone. Fish done this way are said to be fil- 
leted, the two sides beicg called fillets. Fillets of 
bass rayee, a la maitre d' hotel, a favorite dish for 
fine dinners, are these sides buttered and broiled 
and served with maitre d' hotel butter. 

884. To Broil a Shad "Whole. 

Scale the fish and pull out the gills, and draw it 
without ripping opeu. Wash and wipe it dry. Mix 
a little butter, pepper and salt together, put a small 
portion inside the fish, aud spread the rest upon the 
sutside, roll it in two turns of oiled or buttered 



paper and broil it high above the coals ahout 20 
minutes. When done open out, lay on a hot dish, 
and mark it with a red hot iron wire. 

Manilla paper should be used. Paper well greased 
will stand a good deal of heat without being 
destroyed. To prevent dripping the butter and 
gravy double in the ends of the paper and fasten 
with a pin. Throw coarse salt on the coals to put out 
a blaze. The fish may be served with a sauce or 
with a surrounding of green peas, potatoes, toast or 
fried crusts. 

Roe shad bring about one-third mors than the 
others in market, the roe sells in the restaurants for 
as much as the fish. It has a sweet mealy taste 
when fried. 

885. Fried Shad Roe. 

Take out the roe without breaking it out of shape 
and let lie in cold water till wanted. Wipe dry, roll 
it in flour and fry in a little lard in a pan the same 
as fish. 

Shad roe can also be breaded whole; parboiled 
and then split and breaded and fried crisp; or 
scrambled with butter in a frying pan and an egg or 
two added ; and it may be boiled and served with 
cream sauce. The plain fry is the best way. 



Planked shad is an American dish that is eaten 
out of doors, by a camp fire, on the river bank, in 
the spring of the year. Daniel Webster was fond of 
planked shad and he knew an old uncle who could 
oook it better than anybody else. But they always 
prepared it. out of dcors. It does not belong to 
hotel cooking. 



886. 



Broiled Spanish Mackerel— Royal 
Sauce. 



Cut the fish, if over one pound in weight, in four 
pieces, first splitting it down the back and taking out 
the bone. Dry it on a cloth. Dredge with salt and 
pepper. For each fish mix together two raw yolks 
of eggs and an equal amount of olive oil, roll the 
pieces (fillets) of fish in the egg mixture and then 
in fine bread crumbs (not cracker-meal) and broil 
carefully on.top of the wire broiler. Spanish mack- 
erel can of course be broiled plain like any other 
fish as well. It is a scarcer and dearer fish than 
the common mackerel. 



887. Royal Fish Sauce. 

4 ounces of fresh butter. 

3 raw yolks of eggs. 

3 tablespoonfuls of tarragon vinegar. 

2 tablespoonfuls of India soy. 

1 green gherkin finely minced. 

Little cayenne and salt. 



246 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



Stir the eggs and butter together in a little eauc 
pan over the fire till the yolks thicken slightly, 
taking care not to let them cook hard. Take i' off 
and stir in the other ingredients gradually. Set in 
a old place and serve sliced cold with fish 



888. Broiled Fresh Mackerel 

Split the fish down the back, take out the bone, 
cut in four pieces if for hotel service, wash, and dry 
on a cloth. Brush over each piece with the butter 
brush and broil in the hinged wire broiler. Brush 
over with a touch of fresh butter when done. 

889. The Mystery of the Fillet. 

Probably we can do nothing more useful here 
than explain a matter that has never been explained 
before in set phrase, and is a source of evident con- 
fusion, not only among some cooks, and others con. 
cerned in cooking, but among the frequenters of 
restaurant and hotel tables. 

The word fillet is used in cookery in its broadest 
meaning of a band or strip, and is strict in sense 
only in one point, that it always means meat without 
any bone. It does not always mean the same piece 
of meat in every animal, and it docs not follow that 
because the fillet of beef is the tenderloin that a 
fillet of fish can be called a tenderloin like 
wise. When our big cook books that mystify more 
than they teach tell us to bone a fillet of veal they 
do not mean the tenderloin of veal only but the 
whole of the loin, the tenderloin being called the 
under or small fillet. The same with mutton and 
other small meats. A fillet of rabbit is the saddle 
of rabbit with the bone out. A fillet of fowl is 
the breast of fowl, but as that has a natural 
division each fowl furnishes four fillets accord- 
ing to cooks' talk, the upper fillet or portion of 
the breast, and the minion fillet or division of the 
breast th it is nearest the breast bone. So with fish: 
the fillet first is the whole side of a fish free from 
bone, but technically any boneless piece of fish of 
considerable size is spoken of as a fillet (strip) of 
fish. When a bill of fare announces fillets of fish in 
any style it simply means sides of fish cut off clear 
from the bone. And that is not quite the same as a 
slice or a steak. 



the meat. It takes two perch to make a dish where 
one of some oiher kinds would do. 



890. Lake Herring. 

Either fry or broil it in any way that is directed 
for trout and other kinds. 

This is an excellent fish of the trout family, hav- 
ing the same fins and the same freedom from small 
bones. It is white, both scales and flesh. 

891. Fresh Water Perch. 

Gnod pan fish. Fry and serve with bacon. The 
bones are not troublesome but large in proportion to 



892. Smelt's Sauteed in Brown Butter. 

Or, Au Beurre Noir. 

Pull out the gills and cleanse the fish, wash and 
wipe dry and roll them in flour. Fifty of these small 
fish will take over a pound of butter. A very short 
time before they are wanted melt a part of the 
butter in a large frying pan, lay in the fish in close 
order, and let, the butter and fish brown together but 
not get black. Turn over when half done, cook 
only a9 they are wanted, a panful at a time, adding 
more butter with each relay. The butter froths over 
them while cooking and they should be sent to table 
before it subsides, with potato pancakes, or cro- 
quettes, or toast in the same dish. 

The smelt is a sea fish, but is caught in fresh 
waters. It can be cooked in all the way* previously 
mentioned. The foregoing does for any kind of 
small fish as well. 

893 Potato Pancakes to Serve ■with 
Fish, Etc. 

1 pound of mashed potato. 

3 ounces cf butter. 

1 cupful of milk. 

8 yolks and G whites. 

Salt. 

Mash the potatoes through a colander, work the 
butter in while warm, and the milk and yolks. 
Whip the whites firm and stir in just before frying 
Cook in omelet pans like sweet pancakes; roll up, 
place in the dish diagonally with a fish on each 
side. A spoonful of flour is needed in the mixture 
when the polatoes are not of a mealy sort. 

894. Grayling. 

Cook it in all the ways directed for brook trout. 
It runs about the same size from eight ounces to 
ihree pounds. 



The grayling like the trout and the mullet posses- 
ses an interest apart from its value as food, which it 
is pertinent here to mention because it has lately 
been discovered inhabiting the lakes and rivers of 
the northwest, whereas it had been regarded as pecu- 
liar to Europe before. Old Izaac Walton mentions 
it: "St Ambrose, the glorious bishop of Milan, who 
lived when the church kept fasting days, calls the 
grayling the flower fish; and some think that he 
feeds on the sweet water thyme " Another tells 
us the grayling is one of the few fishes of the 
glacial period still in existence. A home authority 
says: "lie has only very recently been discovered to 
be a dweller in certain American waters as well. 
They are quite abundant in many of the streams of 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



247 



Michigan, and, it is said, in a few tributaries of Lake 
Superior so well. However this may be, it is certain 
i hat the rivers of Michigan, particularly the north. 
ern ones, are the chief abiding places of the gray- 
ling, and here he was discovered and the event an. 
nounced to a doubting public. Extensive and Bys 
tematic efforts are now being ruade to introduce the 
new comer into many and remote waters and there 
is no doubt that he will thrive in any suitable trout 
stream." 

These, and similar attractions, go to make up the 
business of summer resort hotels. Let us in passing 
snatch another ''flower fish" simile from Thoreau 
The epithet applied to the grayling is for i's great 
curved fins and its brilliant hues. This refers to 
another kind: 

Anou their cousins, the true trout, took their turn, 
and a'ternately the speckled trout, and the silvery 
roaches, swallowed the bait as fast as we cou'd throw 
in ; and the finest specimens of both that I have 
ever seen, the largest one weighing three pounds, 
were heaved upon the shore. While yet alive, be- 
fore Iheir tints had faded, they glistened like the 
fairest flowers the product of primitive rivers ; and 
he could hardiy trust his senses, as he stood over 
them, that these jewels should have swam away in 
that Aboljacknagesic water for so many dark ages; 
these bright fluviati'e flowers, seen of Indians only, 
made beautiful, the Lord on'y knows why, to Bwim 
there. But there is the rough voice of Unc'e George, 
who commands at the frying-pan to send over what 
you've got, and then you may stay till morning 
The pork sizzles and cries for fish." 

895. Cisco. 

Either fry or broil it in any way that is directed 
for trout or any am ill fish. 

The cisco and lake herring are varieties of the 
same family of fishes, the cisco being the smaller 
and darker of the two. 



The following we quote from "Fish and Fishing," 
as having relation to our summer resort business: 

"The cisco found in the Wisconsin and Indiana 
lakes, particularly the former, inhabits deep water 
through almost the entire year, and is rarely met 
with except during a very brief season in June. 
Then he makes up for his former absence by appear- 
ing literally in countless numbers, rising to the 
surface in pursuit of a fly called the "cisco fly, ' 
which abounds during an equally brief season iu 
June. 

Immediately on the appearance of the cisco fly 
rapid preparations are made for the approaching 
sport. Old fishermen claim to prognosticate the 
abundance or reverse of the cisco by the number of 
flies, saying "Many flies, many fish," or the opposite. 



At Geneva Lake, Wisconsin, perhaps the most 
noted cisco resort, the fish appear first in one portion 
of the lake, gradually working towards the opposite 
extremity. Hence, while fishing is at its height in 
one locality, there are only scattering fish at another 
point but a short distance removed. The next day 
the host has passed from its haunts of yesterday, 
leaving only a few stragglers behind A few days 
later, their course bein to completed, they almot 
wholly disappear, returning to the deepest portions 
of the lakes, and thence onward until the arrival of 
the next cisco season, the sportsman may fish a 
month without seeing a single individual. 

But while the season lasts the sport is fast and 
furious. The residents at the lake telegraph to 
friends and habitues far and near that the fish have 
appeared, and the telegram must be responded to 
promptly or not at all. 

On arrival, the fisherman takes a boat, and, pro- 
vided with a bamboo pole, a common linen line, and 
perch hooks, rows out to where the school is then 
lying. Baiting with the abundant cisco fly, he casts, 
and almost before the flies have reached the water 
they are seized upon by the eager fi"h. Then, until 
he is fairly satiated, he has only to throw out his line 
and haul in the beauties. 

On the table, the cisco is delicious eating, its flesh 
being white and translucent. In the hotels and res- 
tauran's of Chicago they have become a favorite item 
in the bills of fare." 



And the following we quote from a ladies' fashion 
paper. The way of cooking trout described in the sec- 
ond instance — "however odd" — is the well-known, 
primitive Indian barbecue; the potting method ought 
to be tried with our home cisco in the season of its 
abundance: 

''One of the greatest charms of trout fishing is 
the satisfactory culinary result of the amusement; 
and we now intend to give a little information re- 
garding trout as a table luxury, which of itself 
might tempt many a lady to take a rod and go a 
fishing. Every one who has been in England, and 
many people who have not been there, have heard of 
the famous delicacy, associated with the English 
lakes, called potted char. Now potted char is, as 
often as not, potted trout. The distinction between 
the fish is difficult to determine, and one fish is quite 
as delicate as the other The following simple re- 
cipe for its preparation was given us by the land- 
lady of the famous Ferry Inn at Ambleside— one of 
the most noted makers of the delicacy living: 

896. "Take one dozen char (or trout), dress, 
and wipe with a dry cloth; strew a little salt in and 
over them, and let them lie all night; then wipe 
again with a dry cloth, and season with one ounce 
of white pepper, one-quarter ounce of cayenne, one- 
half ounce of pounded cloves, and a pinch of mace. 
Clarify two pounds of butter; then put the fish, with 



248 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



their backs down, in a pot lined with paper, pour 
the butter over them, and bake four hours in a slow 
oven." 

And now that we are on the subject of eating 
trout, we will add a delicate and delicious way of 
dressing trout at the water edge, invariably adopted 
by the hungry anglers in the Cumberland dales — 
one, however odd, that only needs to be tried once 
in order to be adopted by acolamation. We will, of 
course, suppose that a little bread, butter, and salt 
have been taken in the creel, or basket. If there 
has been this forethought, then let your attendant 
collect a lot of small dry wood, and set it on fire. 
When a sufficient quantity of ashes has been ob- 
tained, take a sheet of paper — an old newspaper 
will do — wet it thoroughly, shake off the drops of 
water, fill the mouth of the fish with salt, wrap 
him up in the wet paper, and bury him in the ashes. 
In ten or fifteen minutes uncover him, and if he is 
sufficiently done, the skin will come off entile with 
the paper, and the trout lie ready for eating, as 
white or pink as rose. 

If we have have said enough to induce some lady 
to buy a rod and become a disciple of the "gentle 
craft," we shall have added somewhat to the happi- 
ness of the world." 



897. 



Broiled Salmon Steak with New 
Potatoes. 



One of the greatest luxuries that can be provided 
for a fine breakfast or dinner, not only for its high 
price but because the salmon is called the king of 
fishes. 

Slice the fish with a sharp knife and sever the 
bone in the center by striking the point of the knife 
with a hammer — not to break or tear the meat. Lay 
the steaks in a bright tin pan or dish, dredge with 
pepper and salt, brush them over with olive oil, if 
you can, or with clear melted butter and let them lie 
till wanted. Then broil in the hinged wire broiler 
same as beefsteaks, about 10 minutes. Di8h up on 
a large platter hot. Have some new potatoes ready 
boiled, cut them in quarters lengthwise and place 
them as a border around the steak. Shake a tea- 
spoonful of chopped parsley over the salmon steak, 
melt a piece of fresh butter in an omelet pan and 
pour it hot over it, squeeze the juice of half a 
lemon over that. Place three or four green tufts of 
parsley among the potatoes in the border and send 
it in. 



The above is a la maitre <T hotel by a short order 
method, suitable for a dish for a party, of almost any 
kind of broiled fish. A restaurant order for one is 
commonly a salmon steak weighing from eight to 
twelve ounces. A party dish may take three or four 
Buch. It takes at least fifteen pounds gross of salmon 



for broiled steaks for breakfast for fifty, in hotel 
service. People generally cannot eat as much of 
this rich fish as of other kinds and the individual 
steaks need not be large when the fish is only one 
item in the meal. 

898. Broiled Trout Steak— Hollandaise 

The largest lake trout are used to slice and broil 
the same as salmon. Serve the steaks in the same 
way, or with hollandaise sauce poured around; or, 
if individual small portions, with the sauce at one 
end of the dish. It is not sensible to pour a sauce 
of decided flavor and pungency upon the fish for the 
many who would rather have it ithout. 

Most, if not all, of the old established favorite 
sauces have come down to us in two forms, the orig- 
inal French and the modified English; the pungent 
and the mild; it might almost be said the costly and 
the cheap, but it is too plain that the cheaper form ' 
is generally liked the better without regard to any 
difference of cost. It may seem trite to say it but it 
is necessary: the cook should be equally prepared 
and equally willing to make them either way, and if 
he finds, as is generally the case, that the cheaper 
form suits best for the hotel table he can reserve the 
more expensive, or the more concentrated, pungent 
or vinous form for particular or private require- 
ments. 

899. Hollandaise Sauce— French Way. 

1 teacupful of vinegar. 

1 teaspoonful of black pepper-corns. 

J cupful of fresh butter. 

8 yolks of eggs. 

Small piece of broken nutmeg. 

Salt, if not enough in the butter. 

Bruise the pepper-corns so that the flavor can be 
drawn aud boil them and the scrap of nutmeg in 
the vinegar a few minutes. Then strain it into an- 
other saucepan, throw in half the butter and boil 
it again. Beat the yolks a little, pour part of the 
boiling vinegar to them gradually, then turn all into 
the saucepan and stir it on the fire. There is noth- 
ing very particular about making this sauce, but the 
one point of knowing when to stop the cooking. 
About one minute after it is set on the fire with the 
yolks in it thickens to the consistency and appear- 
ance of good mayonaise or soft butter, immediately 
after that it becomes thinner, and although not then 
quite spoiled it is not perfect or fit for a fine dish. 
When the sauce is at that thickest point drop in half 
the remaining butter and keep beating with the wire 
egg whisk till it is dissolved — still on the side of the 
range — then take it off and beat in the butter re- 
maining. Salt if needed. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



249 



OOO. Hollandaise Sauce— English "Way. 

Make good butter sauce, or drawn butter aa it is 
called, color it yellow with yolks of eggs and let 
them cook in it enough to thicken but nut boil, and 
beat in a little more butter. Squeeze in the juice of 
one or two lemons, and add a pinch of cayenne. 



901. 



Original Dutoh or Hollandaise 
Sauce. 



1 or 2 yolks of eggs. 

1 cupful of butter. 

J cupful of vinegar. 

Pinch of cayenne. 

Flavoring of any kind of table sauce, aochovy 
essence, soy, or flavored vinegar. 

No cooking is required, but the sauce is made with 
a knowledge of the fact that butter will mix with a 
liquid at the right temperature. Soften thebuter 
but not melt it. Have the vinegar nearly milk, 
warm. Stir a spoonful of vinegar into the butter, 
and when that is absorbed add another, and after 
that the yolk of an egg. Then more vinegar, I he 
flavoring of table sauce and another yolk. May be 
used as soon as mixed, or kept cold till wanted. 



902. Broiled Pompano —Tartar Sauce. 

The pompano is a southern sea fish somewhat rare 
and high priced. It haB a decided flavor of its own 
that suggests the taste of black walnuts when broiled 
It has the flattened shape of the sunfish and scalis 
almost as fine as those of the mackerel. 

Scrape the skin thoroughly. The smallest size, 
weighing about one pound, may be broiled whole in 
the wire broiler previously greased. Split the large 
ones down the back and through the head Broi' 
the cut side first — 8 or 10 minutes — brush over with 
fre-h butter and dredge with salt and pepper, then 
broil the skin side til done. Serve ou a hot dish 
Squeeze a liitle ";emon juice over, and serve cold 
tartar sauce in a sauce boat separately, or, for indi- 
vidual orders, the hot tartar sauce in the same dish. 

903. Tartar Sauce, Cold. 

Is mayonaise sauce with finely minced onion or 
cives and green pickled gherkin or chopped tarragon 
mixed in, and a good pinch of cayenne pepper. (See 
Nos. 693 and 738.) 

904. Tartar Sauce, Hot. 

1 teacupful of vinegar. 

1 basiingspoonful of olive oil. 

1 ounce of butter. 

1 tablespoonful of finely minced onion. 

8 yolks of eggs. 



Little minced pickled gherkin and cives. 

Salt and cayenne. 

Boil the onion in the vinegar a few minutes, throw 
in the butter and yolks and beat till it cooks thick- 
one minute. Take it from the fire and whip in the 
oil gradually, and the seasonings. 



905. Halibut Steak— Sauce Robert. 

Dip the slices of halibut in flour and saute them 
with a little drippings or butter in a frying pan, 
like the common fryiDg of beefsteak, and serve with 
the sauce at the side m the same dish. 



906. Catfish Steaks. 

Catfish especially needs to be well done. It is 
more oily than halibut and somewhat slow to cook. 
It may be plainly sauteed, or floured and fried, or 
breaded ; or broiled plain. A good sauce is an 
advantage to it. 

Rabelais mentions the originator of the sauce 
Robert in such words as these: "And Robert, another 
cook, who gave us the 9auce, thit is good with fish 
aud capon aud grilled bones," etc. Another writer 
refers to him as ''Robert, one of the Parisian gastro- 
nomic masters." Sauce Robert briefly and simply 
is brown meat gravy containing lightly fried onion 
and garlic, or one or the other, and mustard, vine- 
gar and pepper. 



907. Sauce Robert— French "Way. 

2 bastingspoonfuls of olive oil. 

2 cloves of garlic 

2 small onions. 

1 bastingspoonful of vinegar. 

A tea^poonful of white pepper. 

t pint of espagnole sauce, or brown gravy. 

1 tablespoonful of made mustard. 

Stew the onions and garlic, cut small, in the oil 
till they are tender aud begin to color. Pour off the 
oil; add to the onions a spoonful of broth or water 
and a spoonful of vinegar and the ground pepper. 
Simmer a little longer, then add the ladleful of brown 
sauce, boil and skim and at last mix in the mustard. 



908. Sauce Robert— English Way. 

Fry a minced onion in very little fresh butter a 
the side of the range, only till light yellow, and not 
in the least brown. Put in a ladleful of brown sauce 
slightly diluted with stock, and throw in a little 
pepper. Let simmer a while and add a spoonful of 
vinegar. The butter when it boils again will come 
to the top and can be skimmed off if desired, but 
need not be when the sauce is for a dry kind of fish. 
At last mix in a tablespoonful of muBtard moistened 
with vinegir. The mustard should not cook in it. 



■:,<> 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



900. Chutney Sauce. 

Used to mix with fnh nances and gravies. It is 
an article of the eame order as lora ito keichup, Ta- 
basco 8aucc, chili sauce nml t lie like. It is brought 
forward here because the time to make it is at 
■., md aa i' needs a ur apples. 

I pound each of sour apples, figs, tomatoes, brown 
i and salt. 

1 ounce of cayenne pepper. 

1 ounce of ground ginger. 

2 ounces of garlic. 
2 ounces of onions 

1 r|inrt of lemon juice. 

'■', quarts of vinegar. 

Pound all the articles of the first part, and the 
garlic and onions together in a mortar, mix in the 
ground pepper and ginger, put the pulp in a jar, 
mix in the lemon juico and vinegar and set the jar 
in a place warm enough to raise bread Keep it there 
for a month, stirring the mixture twice aday. Pour 
oil the top liquor and keep it. tightly corked in bottles 
for seasoning fish sauces; put the chutney — the 
thick bottom portion— in wide-mouthed bottles for 
table use. 



Bordelaise is of Bordeaux. Bordelaise] sauce is 
Bordeaux wine sauce, and that wine is claret. A 
few French terms have, through some chance asso. 
stations, been taken up and are perpetually repeated, 
often with little similnri'y of meaning, by those who 
speak of cooking, while the articles they stand for are 
inconsequential, but the admirers of the claret sauce 
or th" fish cooked partially in claret or sauterne 
are nu morons anil enthusiastic while the term for such 
is scarcely to be heard beyond a very limited circle. 
A special affection for the vin de Bordeaux must 
have possessed Hir Walter Scott, for he seems never 
to have lei an opportunity pass of mentioning it in 
hi I "'.vels — in the cargoes of the smugglers, in the 
cellars of the Sooltish gentlemen, and on their bos 
pi table tables— and his liking for Bordelaise sauce 
is as evidently shown in various places as the liking 
of Thackeray for crane au maraiquin, "The ducks' 
— he says, in Guy Mannering — "were roasted to a 
Bingle linn, and the sauce, of claret, lemon, and 
cayenne was beyond all praise." But did even he, 
or his friend Thackeray when they dined together at 
the London clubs, as they often did afterwards, re- 
cognize the "claret, lemon and cayenne," sauce in 
the Bordelaise they undoubtedly were served with, 
after the club cooks had thrown in their extra flavor- 
ings? Probably they did, if the cooks were discreet 
in their seasonings, nut to destroy the main charac- 
teristic of the saiico. For there has to be a mixture, 
or the sauce would lack consistence. At Col. Man- 
nering's table the claret, lemon, and cayenne were 
mixed with the savory gravy of the brace of wild 
ducks. It had long before been discovered that a 



little puree of pounded ham mixed with meat gravy 
makes a fine combination, when the gravy of duck 
is not at hand, and since that it has been tried on 
with the lean of the comparatively recent sugar- 
cured ham of America with such savory results that 
the B irdelaise is getting further beyond all praise 
than ever 

910. Bordelaise Sauce for Fish and 
Broiled Meats. 

2 ladlefuls of espagnole or brown sauce. 

1 ladleful of claret. 

1 clove of garlic. 

J a bay leaf. Cloves. Mace. 

Lean ham. 

1 lemon. Pepper-corns or cayenne. 

Pick some lean moat from the knuckle bone of a 
boiled ham, taking care that, it is sweet, freshly cut 
and free from smoked outside, pound ittoshreds in the 
saucepan, and boil it. with the wine and brown sauce. 
Throw in the piece of bay leaf, two cloves, pepper 
and half a blado of mace. When nearly a third 
has boiled away strain the sauce into another sauce 
pan, let, simmer and skim it. Pour in a spoonfu* 
more of claret, mixed with the juice of the lemon, 
•■o brighten and clear the sauce, and Bkim when it 
boils up again. If for broiled fish add in the boil- 
ing a flavoring of one pounded anchovy, or some 
essence to the sauce at last. 



911. About Crimping Fish. 

This is an operation generally beyond the cook's 
province, but dependent upon the fisherman for its 
performance. There is reason to believe that very 
vague ideas of what is meant by crimped fish pre- 
vail among the generality of cooks and other writers 
o fbills of fare. Trout and salmon should be cooked 
i In- same day they are caught. When first taken, if 
they arc to be in tbo most perfect condition when 
cooked, the fish should be instantly killed by a blow 
on the head, incisions cut in the sides down to the 
bone and about two inches apart, and it should 
then be placed in very cold water for two hours. 
The result is the flesh becomes firm almost to crisp- 
ness, through contraction of the fibres, and coagula- 
tion In the case of salmon it is recommended to 
cut it in steaks at onoe, as soon as killed, and let 
them lie in the cold spring water, or under a stream 
from a pump till thoy can bo cooked. That is crimp, 
ing fish. It makes it flaky when boi'ed and pre- 
serves a certain crearniness between the flakes and a 
richness of flavor that passes away from fish long 
kept, The colder the water that is used the better. 
Crimped fish needs a shorter time to cook than the 
plain, it should be put on in boiling water, and not 
allowed to remain in it a minute after it is done, 
wl ich may be in six or eight minutes for a Blice or 
-leak and fifteen to thirty for a whole fish. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



281 



012 Boiled Red Snapper, Shrimp Sauce. 

Tlio firm-fleshed fishes, of which this is one, and 
tlio groupora from tbc samo southern waters are 
others, are a little better to boil than to bake, and 
rather to bo chosen for boiling than (ho softer lake 
trout They also need a Utile more time to onok in, 
regard being had to the weight and thiolcness, Soale 
and clean the fish and lei il be in a nan of oold 
water till wanted. Hall till the fish kettle with hot 
water, or part stock. Throw in a spoonful of salt, 
a small bay leaf, a small onion with six doves stuck 

in it, a bunch of parsley, and half a cup of vinegar 
and let it boil. 

Throe-cpiarlors of an hour before dinner put in 
the fish and cook it at the side of the range aboul 86 
minutes. Lift it out on the drainer of the kettlo 
and lake nil' the skin of the upper side. 

Dish up small portions on plates, with a spoonful 
of shrimp sauce poured over and a small spoonful of 
mashed potato on the same plate. 

It takes from V2 to 16 pounds gross for the orders 
Of about 00 persons, whero there is but one kind of 

fish. 

913. Shrimp Sauce. 
Butter sauoe colored light yellow with egg yolk, 

With a Utile loin m juice in it, anil shrimps. 
1 quart of water or slock. 
li ounces of butter — -about a cupful. 
'■'■ ounces of Hour — -small cupful. 

1 teaspoonlul of salt. • 

2 yollts of eggs. 
Juice of h'llf a lemon. 

1 can of Barataria shrimps. 

Put hall' the butter in a saucepan with all the 
Hour and stir them over the lire till mixed and bub- 
bling. Then add the boiling water gradually and 
stir while it cooks smooth and rather thick. Drop 
in Iho other half the butler, take it from the lire, 
put in the yolks and boat till the butter is melted. 
Add Iho lemon juice and shrimps. 

014. Boiled Codfish or Haddock, Oystor 
auoe. 

Boil in plaiu salted water generally aboul half an 
hour, or till the meat of the fish will leave iho bnoll 
bone. Servo with the while oyster sauce, No 



usually, but is often seen of much larger size. 

Though a line fish, solid and meal y, for s e reus 01 

it is not as gouerally saleable or taken for choice as 
a number of other large kinds are. 



"He was a good man, an excellent man: be had 

the be-d melted binter 1 ever tasted in my life" — 

was the eulogy pronounced upon a deceased English 

Baron, by an eminent Queen's counsel and member 
of parliament. 

This universally serviceable "melted butter," the 
ono sauoe of the English, and tlio beginning of a 
number of others is a source of much dillicully for 
Iho hotel oook, because of its cost, as it consists, if 
made according to rule, of about, one-half butler, 
and that must be of very good quality, 

916. Butter Sauoe. 

Drawn Butler, or Veiled Butter. 

liiuart of clear strained broth or water. 

S ounces of butter, or more. 

I ounces of flour. 

Salt, if not enough in the butter. 

Take a large basting spoonful of butter — al i I 

ounces — and the same measure of sifted Boui and 
stir them together in a saucepan over the lire. When 

well mingled and bubbling from the bottom I i" 

and add the boiling water or hrnlliji little al a lime, 
stirring till all is in and the sauce has cooked I hick 
and smooth. Tako it from the tire and beat in the 
other half tlio butter a portion at a lime anil do not 
let it boil again. Il looks glossy ami smooth as BOfl 
butter; may need thinning down lor some purp Bes, 
such as for parsley sauoe, eto 



915. Boiled Pickerel, Butter Sauoo. 

Boil it Blowly at. the Bide of the range half an 
hour or more according to size. The stook it is 
boiled in should be seasoned with salt, vinegar and 
a piece of horseradish chopped in pieces. The skin 
of the tish can be pushed oil when it is dished up, 
and a spoonful of good butter sauoe poured over 
each portion of the white fish in the plates. The 
pickerel conies from one pound to ten, in weight, 



917- Butter Sauce Substitute. 

I quart of clear-strained soup stook. 

Flour and-water thickening. 

Butter size of an egg. 

Salt. 

Thicken the slock to the right oonsistenoy and add 
salt. Take il from the tire and beat in the butler, 
which takes away the traoBpatenoy and whitens it, 
If not slightly yellow from the butler add the yolk 
of an egg. 1 1 must not boil. 



The pike and pickerel are often mentioned as the 
Mime; there aie, however, several varieties of pike. 
II. looks familiar to see the pike that used to drive 
all the Other fishes away and spoil the spoil when 
wo all went fishing, named in conneclioii with a 
French river: "The Eurens, a clear stream that falls 
into I be Rhone nbovc I'cyrieux. The trout caught 
in It have pink-colol'ed flesh, while thai of the | Ike 
is as white as ivory." The flesh of the pike I high 
flavored rather than delicate. II is firm and inclinod 
to fall apart in flakes. Pike roe is nearly a 
as sha.l roo, but must be small to cook well by frying. 



252 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



918. Boiled Pike, Parsley Sauce. 

Scale, cleaDse, remove the head ; boil according to 
flize, from twenty to thirty or forty minutes. Serve 
cuts with a fish spoon, with parsley sauce poured 
over it, and potatoes on the same plate. 



919. Parsley Sauce. 

Butter sauce (No 910) with a handful of chopped 
parsley boiled in a minute, before the second portion 
of butter is beaten in. 



920. 



Boiled Mackinaw Trout - 
d' Hotel Potatoes. 



-Maitre 



Half fill the fish kettle with soup stock and add a 
small onion with four cloves stuck in it, half a bay 
leaf, salt, bruised pepper-corns and a pint of white 
wine. Place two trout on the drainer and let sim. 
mer nearly or quite half an hour. Push off the 
upper skin as it is dished up. Serve with maitre d' 
hotel potatoes in the same plate in lieu of other 
sauce. 



The above bouillon au vin Wane is what good cooks 
always try to use for boilinga good fish in, but is not 
very generally available and of course not absolutely 
necessary even for fine cooking. The lake trout has 
a delicate flavor but contains more water in its com- 
position than some others, the pike, for instance, 
and is apt to be insipid when boiled in plain salt and 
water. It should genernlly have seasoned stock, 
though vinegar may take the place of wine. The 
stock sometimes can be used afterwards for fish 
soups or chowders, or for stewing fish steaks in. 



921. Maitre d' Hotel Potatoes. 

The French term is pronounced mater-dotel and 
is abbreviated in common talk to mate.o-tel. 

Potatoes done this way taste like new potatoes. 
If new ones can be had so much the better 

1 quart of cooked potatoes. 

1 pint tadleful of hot water or broth. 

1 basting spoonful of vinegar. 

Butter size of an egg. 

1 basting spoonful of chopped parsley. 

Same of flour thickening. 

Salt. 

Steam some potatoes and cut in pieces into a 
saucepan, add the other ingredients and shake about 
over the fire till it boils It is a thin, semi-trans- 
parent, buttery looking sauce with considerable 
green in it. 

922 Boiled Salmon— Hollandaise 
Potatoes. 

Boil the salmon in the same sort of stock as for 
trout (No. 920). Where there is no regular fish 



kettle the difficulty can be obviated by cutting the 
full into two or three and cooking in a common 
saucepan. Time from half an hour to three quarters, 
wilh slow boiling. Dish up spoonfuls with holland- 
aise potatoes on the same plate. 

923. Hollandaise Potatoes. 

Cut raw potatoes in some particular shape, either 
round with a potatoe scoop or "spoon," or with an 
apple corer and cut the long cores across, or else 
cut them in dice. Boil in salted water, taking them 
from the fire when just done and before they break; 
pour off the water and cover them with hollandaise 
sauee (No. 900) made a little thinner for the purpose. 
These boiled fish dishes shine with their white and 
green, pink, yellow, red, and cream colors. 



924. 



Boiled Fresh Mackerel — Fennel 
Sauce. 



Mackerel deteriorates with keeping very rapidly. 
Its special excellence can only be known when it is 
cooked when fresh caught. The fennel accompani- 
ment is an English fancy. The green feathery leaves 
are given with the fish. A portion is boiled in the 
water and another portion chopped, is mixed with 
butter sauce in the same way as parsley. 

The best way generally to boil mackerel is to roll 
it in a piece of muslin, cook about twenty minutes 
in salted water, roll out on to the dish without 
breaking and serve sauce separately or at the side. 
Tartar sauce is suitable, or the next variety. 

925. Hot Maitre d'Hotel Sauce. 

Add chopped parsley and lemon juice to some 
butter sauce and make it a trifle thinner with hot 
water. 

926. Boiled Shad. 

Sever the back bone with the point of a knife in- 
serted where the cuts are to be taken off, before cook- 
ing, then boil it whole. Dish up neat shapely pieces 
or it will seem to be a mixed up lot of fine bones. 
Serve a simple sauce like the preceding, or potatoes. 



927. 



Boiled Muskallonge, 
Sauce. 



Caper 



A fish like the pickerel, but attains a larger size. 

Boil in seasoned stock with vinegar or wine in it, 
as for lake trout, and serve with sauce and plain 
mashed potatoes. 



928. Caper Sauce. 

Butter sauce with capers and caper vinegar. Mix 
a small portion of the vinegar from the capers with 
the sauce and strew a (easpoonful of capers over 
that on the fish as it is placed on the plates. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



253 



That great favorite the bass, too, is well spoken of 
over the water, but it looks odd to see it spelled 
basse. This is the sea bass, however. "The basse 
is not very abundant in the London fish shop-; in 
the Channel Islands it is often plentiful in it s seison, 
but never, I believe, very cheap; and it abounds 
along our South coast, in St. Georges's and the 
Bristol channel, and on different parts of the Irish 
coast." 

We have beside the sea bass some three or four 
fresh water varieties. They usually run from one 
pound to four or five in weight. 



929. Boiled Bass with Green Peas- 

After scaling and cleaning the fish sever (he bone,by 
inserting the knife point at the places where it is to 
be divided when served, as directed for shad ; that is, 
when it is black bass or others weighing enough to be 
served in portions. Boil in plain salted water about 
fifteen minutes Peel off the upper skin when done. 
Place on the dish, pour over it some good butter sauce 
and green peas around in the dish. If to be served 
individually from the carving table remove the head 
before cooking. Pour a spoonful of butter sauce 
over the portion of fish aud a tablespoonful of green 
peas over that. 



ical times, and lived freely during late geological 
epochs— I should feel (as prefaces always say) that 
my work was not quite in vain." 



If the white fish of the lakes were a scarce variety 
it would doubtless be held in the highest esteem. It 
is one of the best of fishes, and from a culinary 
point of view the most desirab'e in many ways. 
Firm, boneless, a splendid broiler and fryer; deli 
cate'y white when boiled; takes on the best color in 
the oven, and is never rejected at the table. And 
yet people do not habitually boast of it as of the pet 
fishes. A traveler has written this in its praise: 

"I shall never forget my first white fish. I had 
set out from New York for Niagara by a night train, 
and having fallen into sound slumber at Albany in a 
comfortable sleeping car, I did not awake tiil we stop- 
ped for breakfast at Rochester, near Lake Outario,at 
nine o'clock next morning. Rising hastily fresh as 
a daisy after my good night's rest, I found myself 
shortly in a handsome refreshment room, seated 
before a cup of steaming coffee, a plate of hot cakes, 
and a broiled fish, which had been swimming un 
suspectingly in the lake at four o'clock that morning. 
The feelings of a true epicure who lights upon a new 
delicacy of the firit order are indescribable. While- 
fish is a sort of idea'ised mackerel, with a tinge of 
etherial salmon flavor; rich without greasiness, full 
without strongness, and delicate without insipidity 
I ate it with unflagging appetite every morning that 
I remained along the whole great chain of lakes and 
rivers, from Chicago to Saguenay, and every morn- 
ing I thought it rather better than the last If I 
could only succeed in acclimatising it in our own 
Scottish lochs— where it still lingered within histor- 



930. Boiled Whitefish— Cream Sauce. 

Let the fish lie in very cold water, after scaling 
and cleaning, till near dinner time. Boil them in 
seasoned stook with parsley or parsley roots in it, 
slowly for twenty or thirty minutes, taking them up 
as soon as the flesh begins to leave the back bone. 
Serve cuts with a spoonful of cream sauce poured 
over and a teaspoonful of very green peas in butter 
scattered on top for ornament. 

931. Oream Sauce— Plain 

1 quartof good milk. 

1 large basting spoonful of flour. 

Twice its weight of fresh butter. 

Salt. 

Make same way as butter sauce, mixing ha the 
butter with all the flour in a saucepan on the fire, 
adding the boiling milk and afterwards the remain- 
ing butter and beating it in. 



932. Cream Sauce -Bechamel. 

1 pint of condensed soup stock. 

2 ounces of flour — a spoonful. 
4 ounces of butter. 

1 pint of rich cream. 

Salt. 

Take a quart of stock from the boiler, that has 
already been seasoned with the stock vegetables and 
bay leaf, etc., and boil it down to a pint. Stir the 
flour with half the butter over the fire and when it 
bubbles Btrain the stock into it and stir up while it 
cooks, then add the cream and butter, beat up, and 
take it from the fire just before it boils again. 



933. 



Boiled Sheepshead— Lobster 
Sauce. 



The sheepshead is a southern sea fish, something 
like the groupers. It may be known by its rows of 
teeth exposed on the very front of the mouth. 

Scrape well, boil it in seasoned stock same as red 
snapper, and serve with lobsler sauce poured over 
in the plates, and duchesse or dauphine potatoes. 



934. Lobster Sauce. 

3 pints of butler sauoe. 

1 small lobster, or half a caD. 

1 raw yolk of an egg. 

1 lemon. 

Pick out the reddest lobsler meat, if you have 
none of the spawn, and pound it smooth. Mix it 
with the butter Bauce. Add the yolk for color, and 



254 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



the juice of (he lemon. Rub this through a gravy 
strainer. Cut the rest of the lobster in pieces as 
near as possible of one size and mix it in the sauce. 



935. Boiled Slices of Fish. 

We had, a little way back, some examples of fish 
steaks or slices broiled with appropriate sauces; the 
same steaks or slices can be boiled as well, and in 
Bhort order, in a fryiug pan or tin pan, and it is 
very useful to remember it as the fish for dinner 
often comes in late. The slices only need to boil 
slowly for from six to ten minutes, and may then be 
served with any of the boiled fish sauces, with po- 
tatoes in cream sauce, potatoes in butter sauce, and 
the like. But there should in most cases be season- 
ings in the water the slices are boiled in. An insipid, 
washed out slice of fish with an imitation sauce may 
satisfy hunger and serve a present purpose but does 
not tend to draw custom. Expensive sauces may be 
out of reach, but plain seasonings for the boiling 
fish itself are always available. A panful of stock 
with an onion, whole pepper, salt, parsley and lit- 
tle vinegar in it, and perhaps some green thyme and 
a scrap of bay leaf, makes a slice of salmon, trout, 
sturgeon, cod, or halibut, a different sort of dish 
from the same boiled in fresh water — as they often 
are. 

In cold weather the stock left from the previous 
day's boiling of fish will be good for boiling steaks. 
This mode of cooking needs to be encouraged for 
breakfast as well as for dinner dishes, to lessen the 
frequency of the more expensive mode of frying. 



936. Egg Sauce. 

A good and always available sauce for fish steaks 
or any boiled fish. 

Make butter sauce (No. 916), color it yellow with 
yolk of egg, and mix in about a fourth as much hard 
boiled eggs chopped not too fine. 



987. 



Baked Red Grouper — Sauce 
Andalouse. 



Take two of these fishes weighing six or eight 
pounds each. When cleaned and scaled put them 
in a baking pan wiih salt, a little water, some cut up 
vegetables, and fat from the stock boiler. Bake 
about ten minutes, then peel off the upper skin, 
which is coarse and rough, baste the fish with the 
liquor in the pan and let it bake brown. This fish 
needs a long time to cook — nearly or quite an hour. 
Serve with the sauce at the side. 



938. Sauce Andalouse. 

Andalusian sauce is in effect a mixture of espag- 
nole with tomato sauce seasoned with red peppers or 



chutney. When the fish is done and taken up put 
into the pan it was baked in two pouuds of toma- 
toes, a dozen cloves, a spoonful of fiuely miticed 
onion, half a bay leaf and a chopped red pepper. 
Add a pint of brown sauce, if at hand, if not waler 
and brown thickening, and let simmer inside the 
range a short time. Strain through a coars? gravy 
strainer into a saucepan. Set it over the fire, at the 
side, to continue gently boiling, and skim off the 
grease as it rises. Add salt if necessary. 



939. 



Baked German Carp with Green 
Peas. 



Scale and cleanse the fish — always remove the 
head, which otherwise will impart an unpleasant 
taste — and let lie in cold water a while. An hour 
before dinner put them in a baking pan with a little 
salt and black pepper and a slice of salt pork for 
seasoning laid on the bottom, and just enough soup 
stock to keep the pan from burning. Bake the fi*h 
about ten minutes, withdraw it from the oven and 
peel off the skin of the upper side Dredge a little 
flour evenly all over — stirred through a seive with 
the fingers if you have no dredgei — smooth it with 
the blade of a knife, then bake half an hour and 
baste wiih butter while it is biking. The fish will 
be light brown and there will be a Bmall quantity of 
thick and rich sauce. Having taken up the fish put 
in some stock, stir up, boil and strain it and mix in 
a pint of green peas, already cooked. Serve the 
sauce and peas on the fish in the plates. 

940. Pried Green Peas. 

Very young new peas may be made of a brilliant 
green color for garnishing the pUtes of fish, by care- 
fully sauteing them in a frying pan with the clear 
oil of melted butter. 



German carp were introduced into American 
waters by the United States Fish Commissioners 
some six years ago. Some of the fish taken in the 
Potomac, said to be the first German carp ever seen 
at an American hotel table, were served at Willard's 
Hotel, Washington, March 29, 1882. 

'•This fish"— says on English author — "is held in 
high estimation on the Continent especially those 
caught in the Rhine and Moselle. In England they 
are seldom found good ; when cooked they taste 
muddy; this is chiefly owing to their being taken 
from stagnant ponds." 



94:1. Baked German Carp— Espagnole. 

Scale and clean the fish and take off the heads. 
Wash and wipe dry, and stuff them with the bread 
dressing of the next receipt. Sew up the belly with 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



'Jjj 



twine. It lakes about fifteen pounds of fish for the 
orders of fifty persons. 

Slice up into your baking pan a small carrot, 
onion, turnip, and stalk of celery, and throw in a 
few cloves, half a blade of mane and a bay leaf. Put 
in the fish with salt and pepper and some fat from 
the stock boiler and water enough to cover the 
bottom. Bake about half an hour basting the fish 
frequently. When done and placed on the oarving 
stand add more water or stock to the contents of the 
pan, let simmer in the range a while, then thicken 
and strain off the sauce. Serve the fi9h with a 
spoonful of sauce and a spoonful of French fried 
potatoes in the same plate. 



942. Bread Dressing for Fish. 

2 pounds of bread. 

1 heaping teaspoonful of powdered herbs — thyme 
and savory. 

J pint of warm water — a cupful. 

} pint or less of butter, lard, or sausage fat. 

Pepper and salt. 

4 yolks of eggs. 

Cut the bread in dice, all free from dark crust, 
add the herbs to it and pepper liberally. Mix the 
other articles together and pour over the bread. Stir 
up, but not mash it. This will not be liable to burst 
out when baking. 



943. Potatoes Francaise. 

Cut raw potatoes in slices and then crosswise in 
lengths with a sabatier scollop knife, which gives 
them a ribbed appearance. Fry them a light color 
in lard. They are done when they rise and float. 
Drain in a colander and sprinkle with salt. 



The American carp is known as the "buffalo" 
fish, and "sucker." It is good enough to form the 
staple commodity of many inland fish markets along 
the great rivers of the West where it abounds. 



944. Carp Baked Plain. 

Bake the fish in a pan with salt, pepper, slices of 
pickled pork or bacon and water enough to keep 
the pan from burning and to baste with. Bake 
according to size, from half an hour to an hour. 
Make thickened gravy in the pan and serve the 
pieces of pork with the fish, and plain steamed 
potatoes. 

945. Baked Salmon Trout— Au O-ratin 
or Chevaliere. 

Split the fish down the back and take out the 
back bone. Lay it, skin side down, in a baking pan 
iu which there is sail, and soup stock or water 
enough to wet the bottom. Bake the fish a few 
minutes, or until it gets fairly hot, then take out 



and brush over the top with beaten egg, and on that 
sift some cracker meal, or finely crushed and sifted 
dry bread crumbs. Set the fish in to bake again 
and baste while it is baking with butter melted, or 
good drippings. When richly browned take it up. 
Serve with fine herbs sauce, or tomato sauce ai.d 
potato oroquettes. To be a la chevaliere the above 
should have grated cheese in the breading, to be 
properly au gratin there should be a coating of fine 
herbs sauce under the crumbs. There is no need to 
use either term. 

946. Potato Croquettes 

2 pounds of steamed potatoes. 

2 ounces of butter. 

2 yolks, or one egg. 

1 teaspoonful of salt. 

Mash a'l together. Make up in long rolls about 
the length of a thumb, roll them in beaten egg.and- 
water, and then in cracker meal and fry in hot lard 



947- 



Fillets of Whiteflsh — Dauphine 
Potatoes. 



Choose large whitefish, scale, split, and take out 
ihe back bone. Make some fresh lard hot in a 
baking pan. Salt and pepper the sides of fish, dip 
them in beaten egg (without watei), then in flour, 
then in egg again. Lay them in the hot lard and 
set the pan in the oven Care is required not to let 
the lard get very hot, but to oook the fish of a deli- 
cate deep yellow color. In about twenty minutes 
take up and drain the fillets from grease. Serve with 
parsley sauce and potatoes. 



948. Dauphine Potatoes. 

Mash some potatoes through a seive — about a quart 
dipper full — with butter size of an egg, two yolks, 
salt, and half a cupful of milk. Drop Bpoonfuls 
like cakes, conical in shape, on a greased baking 
pan and bake them of a light color. 



949. 



Baked Spanish Mackerel— Sauce 

Pi qua ute 



Take fifteen or twenty mackerel ; scrape the fine 
scales off, pull out the gills and draw them without 
cutting open. Wash thoroughly and dry inside and 
out. Stuff the mackerel with the fish forcemeat of 
the next receipt. Lay them in a pan with the bot- 
tom previously well spread with fresh butter, add 
salt and a ladleful of stock and the juice of one or 
two lemons, and bake them in a brisk oven about 
twenty or thirty minutes, basting with the liquor 
from a corner of the pan, which should be dry at 
last and the fish richly glazed and brown. Divide 
neatly with a sharp knife point and serve portions 
with the sauce at the side and small potato croquettes 
on the same plate. 



250 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



90U- Fish Forcemeat. 

1 pound of whitefish, raw. 
8 ounces of bread panada. 
8 ounces of minced suet 

2 eggs — (4 yolks better). 

2 tablespoonfuls of chopped parsley. 

Pepper, salt, little nutmeg and lemon juice. 

Steep some bread in cold water and wring it dry 
by twisting in a clean kiichen napkin. Take the 
required quantity with all the other ingredients, and 
mash them to a paste, taking care that I he fish be 
free from bones. Use this to stuff small fish nnd to 
make little balls (quenelles), to be rolled in flour and 
fried or poached, for garnishing and for ragouts. 

951. Small Potato Croquettes. 

Make the potato preparation, No. 946, and make 
it up in little balls not larger than walnuts with 
plenty of flour on the hands, insuring the croquettes 
a good coating. Put them in a wire basket and im- 
merse them in hot lard. Take out as soon as ihey 
hive a yellow color lest they burst in the fat. Serve 
them with fish, on the same plate, or as a border to 
a large dish. 

Potato croquettes are made difficult to fry by too 
much milk or water beiug mixed in when the pota- 
toes are mashed. They then turn soft in the hot 
lard, and become shapeless and greasy. The pota- 
toes for croqueties should be mashed separately and 
kept dry. 

952. Speckled Trout with Fine Herbs. 

20 to 25 pounds of trout. 

Forcemeat for stuffing. 

8 ounces of butter. 

4 slices of pork. 

1 bastingspoonful of minced onion. 

1 can of button mushrooms. 

1 Bpoonful of minced parsley. 

1 pint of sherry. 

Pepper and salt. 

Scrape the fish, pull out the gills, and draw them 
without cutting open. Wash and wipe dry inside. 
Fill with the stuffing (No 950). Spread the butter 
on the pan, put in the fish close together, and the 
mushroom liquor and pork slices and shake the re- 
maining ingredients evenly upon them. Add a ladle- 
ful of stook. Bake about half an hour, basting from 
the corner of the pan. Dish up out of the pan 
without other sauce, but with Parisian potatoes in 
the same plate. 

953. Potatoes Boulettes, or Parisienne 

or Mitrailleuse- , 

Scoop out balls from raw potatoes with a potato spoon 
about like large cherries in size, and enough of them 
to fill a quart. Stew (not fry) them in butter, or in 



mixed butter and lard till they are done, then drain 
and set them in a pan in the oven a few minutes to get 
a rich color. Sprinkle with parsley and salt. Good 
to serve with every kind of meat, but especially for 
small dishes of fish. They are fine and ornamental 
likewise as fried potatoes. 



954. Baked Blueflsh— Bordelaise. 

After cleaning and trimmiDg off the fins wash the 
ti9h and wipe it dry. Fill the inside with the veal 
forcemeat of the next receipt, and sew up with twine. 
Cut up iuto the baking pan a piece of carrot and 
turnip, and put in a small onion stuck with cloves, 
a bunch of parsley, a ladleful or two of slock and 
fat from the top of the stock boiler, a ladleful of 
claret or white wine, some pepper and salt. Put in 
the fish, bake in a hot oven. While it is baking fry 
a slice of ham in butter, add a bastingspoonful of 
flour and let it become brown in the pan for thicken- 
ing When the fish is taken up pour into the pan 
another ladlefnl of stock and another of wine, thick' n 
with the brown flour, and when it has boiled up in 
the pan strain the sauce into a sauce pan, Bimmer at 
the side of the range and take off the grease as it 
rises. Add the juice of a lemon and some cayenne. 



955. Wine Sauce for Fish. 

The' above described method of baking a fish in 
wine stock and making a thickened wine sauce for 
it in the same pan, whether the fish be stuffed or 
not, is a favorite one both with the cooks and with 
those they cook for, and is resorted to with nearly 
every kind of fish that comes to the hotel table the 
designation, a very proper one, usually being "with 
wine sauce," the cooking wine available usually 
being sherry. Another most popular way is that 
directed for speckled trout with fine herbs (No. 952), 
which is also applicable to every kind of fish and is 
in general practice, it being merely optional wheiher 
the fish, whatever the kind may be, shall be stuffed or 
not. The skill of the cook, and natural taste is 
shown in the appearance of both the fish and the 
sauces, in making the latter of good color, bright, 
and not pasty; things at once appreciated in prac- 
tice, if not altogether to be made plain in words. 



956. Veal Stuffing for Fish. 

1 pound of minced cooked veal. 

8 ounces of fat salt pork, or part suet. 
8 ounces of bread panada. 

2 eggs. 

1 teaspoonful of mixed snll and pepper. 

Same of powdered thyme and savory. 

A pinch of ground mace. 

Juice of 1 lemon. 

To prepare the bread, soak the pieces in cold 



THE AiLEKICAN COOK. 



257 



water and squeeze dry in a doth. Pound all the 
ingredients together. This veal forcemeat can be 
used in man; other ways besides for stuffing fish. 

957- Duchess Potatoes. 

Prepare the po'atces as at Xo. 948, by mashing 
through a seive and seasoning with butter, salt, little 
milk and yolk of egg, and for the short way spread 
ia a pan or pie plate, egg overthe top, bake light brown 
and serve out portions to each plate of fish with a 
spoon. To be more elaborate cut the thinly spread 
potato out ia shapes, egg over, place on a greased 
pau and bake till colored, or shape the mashed po- 
tato in greased patty pans, turn them out, egg over 
and bake. 

958. Baked Codfish Stuffed with 
Oysters 

Choose small end or bake or haddock for baking 
who'e. Fill them with the oyster stuffing, No. 855, 
sew up and bake plain, that is to say, with only 
some fat from the top of the stock boiler in the pan, 
and salt. Serve with a portion of the dressing and 
brown oyster sauce made as directed at No. 854. 
This makes the cheap and abundant codfish equal to 
the choicer kinds. 



959. Potato Cake to go with Fish. 

1 pound of steamed potatoes — a quart dipperful 
6 ounces of butter — a cupful. 

2 ounces of flour — a bastingspoonful. 
1 cupful of milk. 

3 eggs. Salt. 

Mash the potatoes through a seive. Mix the butter 
in while still warm, then the flour, the milk and the 
eggs beaten very light. Pour the mixture into a 
gre.vred baking pan like Yorkshire pudding, bake 
the same wiy, of a nice light brown, and serve out 
in squares or spoonfuls with plates of fish. 



960. 



Fillets of Fish with Quenelle 
Dressing. 



We will not specify any particular kind of fish, 
for this is a tasteful and handsome way fjr any 
variety. Neither is it necessary to write it at length 
f;r the bill of fare. The 6imple designation baked 
whitefish, or trout, or muskallunge or whatever it 
it may be is sufficient 

Split the fish in two down the back, take out the 
bone, wipe the two sides (fillets) dry, and dredge 
them wi h pepper and salt. Then, having them on 
a boird before you with the skin side down, spread 
the upper side over with an even coa'ing of the fish 
forceneat of the following receipt. It is a soft yel- 
low paste and can be smoothed over with a palette 
knife. 

Then lay the fillets in a baking pan, with a little 
salt dredged under, put in a spoonful of drippii gs 



and the same of butter, and about as much water to 
keep the corners of the pan from burning. Ba e 
about half an hour, or longer if the sides are lTg-- 
and thick, and baste twice with the contents of the 
pan. The surface should be of a rich yellow-brown 
color, and may need a cover of greased paper should 
the oven be too hot. 

Serve neat cuts on the fish plates with potatoes, 
and a very little gravy of some sort poured under. 

A whole fish for a party table can be prepared in 
the same way, and with wine sauce in the dish. 



961. Fish Forcemeat. 

The quantity of this receij t is about enough for 
one large whitefish laid open. It should be d.utled 
for fish for fifty. 

12 ounces of whitefish, raw. 

8 ounces of bread panada. 

4 ounces of butter. 

3 or 4 yolks of eggs, raw. 

1 tablespoonful of chopped parsley. 

Juice of half a lemon. 

Salt, pepper, and a slight grating of nutmeg. 

Any other kind of fish will do if whitefish is not 
at hand. See that it is free from boces and skin, cut 
it up and pound it in a bri^it saucepan; throw in 
all the other ingredients — the butter not melted — 
and pound them together till smooth. 

This delicate paste is useful in a number of ways, 
and should be made often enough for the ingredi- 
ents to be easi y remembered. 



962. Bread Panada. 

Shave the crust from some stale rolls or slices of 
bread and soak them in cold water, then twist up in 
a coarse cloth to squeeze dry. Hot water to steep 
in will not mike good panada. 



963 A Southern Way. 

In the restaurants and hotels of the South a con. 
siderable use is made of coloring pepper for baking 
fish. The receipt for making it will be found in the 
miscellanea at the end of this work. It can be pur- 
chased in bottles the same as curry powder or file 
gumbo. Though mild in flavor it gives the fish 
the appearance of being covered with a coating of 
cayenne. Split the fish down the back and take 
out the bone. Wash and wipe dry, and lay it in a 
baking pan, skin side downwards and with butter 
in the pan under it. Dredge over salt and a plenti- 
ful coating of coloring pepper. Pour a ladleful of 
broth in the pan and babe the fish according to kind 
and thickness, from fifteen to thirty minutes. 



964. A Plain Bake. 

The method above indicated without the pepper, 
and with only butter and k lemon juice on the fish 
and salted broth in the pan, is one of the best ar.d 



25^ 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



simplest that anyone can practice for any good fish 
that comes along on short order, and a way that is 
designated by a high sounding French term in some 
places. B iste once or twioe while the fish is baking, 
with soft butter from your butter can, and that will 
give brown color enough. 



In the columns that have preceded this the reader 
now has all the good, straight ways of cooking fish 
for breakfast, dinner and supper, nearly all the nec- 
essary sauces for both fish and meats, and nearly all 
the ways of cooking potatoes to go with them. 

It is to be understood, of course, that the sauces, 
etc, do not specia'ly belong to the several fishes, but 
are to be changed over to other kinds according to 
the general intimation of fitness conveyed. 

When a new kind of fish comes along consider 
first whether you can broil it, either in thin sides or 
slices ; the best way for many reasons, but the broil- 
ing arrangements are seldom good enough to accom- 
modate hotel numbers. Then consider the simple 
rolling in flour and frying in real hot lard, and after 
that breading and frying. For dinner give first 
preference to boiling and think over what good-look- 
ing sauce you will make to go with it. It is when 
fish is very plentiful and people seem to tire of it 
that the ways like stuffing with oysters and baking 
come in, and a little novelty of method is always to 
be kept in reserve for uncommon occasions. 

There are other dishes of fish to be mentioned at 
a future time, of the class of made dishes, which 
we are all glad to adopt because of the necessity of 
sometimes making a fish entree to fill out the bill of 
fare, especially on Fridays and in Lent ; and because 
there are times when the fish on hand is not enough 
for anything else but a side dish. 



965. Turbot. 

This is a summer fish, in season from early spriDg 
to late autumn. It runs from four or five to twenty 
pounds in weight, the small ones are considered the 
best. 

Cook a turbot either by cutting the meat, after re- 
moving the bone, in p ; ecps of e-en size and egging, 
breading and frying, or boil it whole in a broad 
kettle and serve a sauce aausual, or bake it in any 
of the ways heretofore directed for other kinds. 

A turbot purporting to be broiled whole is only 
broiled on the white side, partially, then turned over 
into a baking pan and finished by baking, with a 
buttered paper on top to preserve the appearances 
It must be split down the back to keep the whito 
side from breaking while cooking. 



Taft's Point Shirley bills of fare proclaim turbot 
king of the sea. Some folks call him only king of 
flat fish— a sort of ohief plaice or boss flounder 
or jolly old sole. He is an historical fish, however, 
• he great fish story originator, famous at the ban- 



quets of the Gree* and Romans, recipient of the best 
attentions of the most iugeuious maitres d'hotel and 
the chiefest of couss, who delighted in him for his 
accommodating shape for a dish, and broad expanse 
of smooth white surface to draw sunflowers in 
lobs er coral on. 

It was turbot that caused the death of Vatel, 
maiire d'hotel and chef-de-cuisine to the great gen- 
eral, the Prince de "onde. The king was coming and 
they were preparing a regular Southern Hotel din- 
ner for him. Vatel sent both to Blackford's and to 
Booth's for a fine turbot to come at the appointed 
time by Wells, Fargo & Co.'s Express, without ask- 
ing the price or caring much what it cost. For Va- 
tel had a special way of fixing up a turbot and 
wanted the king to see it. His way was to cut the 
fish down the back and open it enough to get out all 
the bones, then fill the inside with fish forcemeat 
(No. 961) and bake it with the white side uppermost, 
with wine, mushrooms and oyster liquor and various 
other things in the pan, basting till the fluids were 
nearly dried up and set in glaze all over the fish. 
When he dished it up he had some rich cream siuce 
(No. 932) which he colored light green by mixing in 
some ravigote butter (No. ) and that he poured over 
the fish. Then he took smelts enough to encircle it, 
took out their bones and stuffed them, then formed 
in rings by sticking their tails in their mouths, 
floured and fried them and laid them around. Then 
he took some fillets of soles, nice and white, and 
with a fine larding needle worked patterns in them 
with shreds of black truffle and red meat of lobster, 
simmered them in butter and then laid them around, 
and wherever they would do the most good, and 
then sent it in hot. But on this great occasion his 
great specialty could not be produced, he telegraphed 
and telephoned and sent couriers till he was tired. 
The king arrived and no fish had come, and Vatel 
went out and committed suicide. Not in any cold, 
clammy, disgusting way, but respectably as a gentle- 
manly chief cook should, by running his sword 
(hrough himself. 

A high literary lady of France saw the true merits 
of the case, and when most people were laughiug at 
Vatel for a fool she wrote pathetically about the af- 
fair and made it look more like a tragedy than a 
joke. The rest of the French cooks were not un- 
gra'eful but gallantly named a soup after her, and 
consequently we have consomme Sevigne to this day. 
If any one thinks that a comical way of commemor- 
ating a persm we ask them to consider how much 
longer the name of the soup will endure than any 
headstone, and how few, comparatively, would ever 
read the name of Madame de Sevigne if it were not 
in the menu. 

Equally scarce, costly and impossible to obtain 
was this fish when a certain Cardinal Fesch unex- 
pectedly received two at once as a present from a 
devoted friend. Not a hotel or restaurant in the city 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



253 



had a turbot or could get one for love or money. 
The cardinal's guests were invited. Some of them 
had not beeu able to obtain even a broiled turbot 
steak at their restaurant for months. They amused 
themselves while anticipating the treat in prepara- 
tion with all the royal t urbot stories they could think 
of, and when at last the great fish was brought in at 
the door they were thoroughly prepared for its en- 
joyment. But, alas, it never reached the table; the 
waiters slipped and the precious dish was scattered 
upon the floor. 

Such a joker was this maitre d'hotel. He wanted 
to see how disappointed they would look, and to 
show how rich in turbot Lis employer was when no- 
body else had a speck. He ordered the second tur- 
bot to be immediately brought in and set on the 
table, showing that in that house they could afford 
to throw away what others were dying to obtain, and 
still have plenty more left to make a feast. 



966. Plaice and Flounders. 

Nearly the same, but the plaice the larger. Cut 
in pieces and fry, or fry whole, or bake with bread 
crumbs or cracker meal on top, or dipped in flour 
and egg. 

967- Soles. 

Among the best flat fish. The favorite way is to 
cook the fillets, rolled up, fastened with small skew- 
ers, dipped in egg and cracker crumbs. Also, fry 
them whole, after skinning The skin can be pulled 
off after starting with a knife point. 

968. Sturgeon. 

May be seen in theVnarket of every size, from 
one or two pounds weight to two or three hundred. 
The skin studded with ridges of horny substance is 
tough and must be removed by means of a knife. 
Cook in steaks same as halibut. Tnke middle cuts, 
remove the bone, fill the cavity with stuffing, and 
braise or bake same as meat, allowing plenty of 
time. Also stew and fricassee the same as veal. 
Sturgeon is salted and smoked in large quantities. 
The roe is converted into cavair. In England the 
fish is a rarity and every one caught in the rivers 
belongs to the crown. Sturgeon's head being very 
gelatinous is said to be a good substitute for turtle. 



It is extremely probable that the names bestowed 
upon French dishes all had some tradition or histor- 
ical association attached in the first instances. Here 
is a hint from a magazine article of the meaning of 
trout a la Genevese : 

"At the same time Charlemagne encouraged the 
production of fruit and flowers, as adding to the 
enjoyment of the people, and was pleased when any 
special delicacy was presented to him. The Genevese 



trout are honorably mentioned in the capitularies, 
and it will be remembered that one of these trout, 
supplied to Cambaceres by the municipality of Ge- 
neva was charged 300 francs in their accounts." 

969. Trout a la Genevese. 

12 to 16 pounds of trout. 

1 pint of champagne. 

1 pint of sherry. 

1 onion stuck with cloves. 

4 ounces of butter. 

A bunch of parsley and thyme. 

A ladleful of broth. 

Salt, pepper, brown roux, toast and lemons. 

Cleanse the trout, take off the heads, wipe dry, 
score through the skin on both sides where the in- 
dividual portions are to be taken off, and also sever 
the bone by striking the point of a knife through. 
Then dredge a little salt and pepper in a baking 
pan, put in the butter, and lay the fish in just touch- 
ing Add half the champagne and sherry, and if 
there is much vacant space in the pan the ladleful 
of broth likewise, and the onion and herbs. Set in 
a hot oven and baste the fish while it is baking, al- 
most constantly, The ge'atinous gravy from the 
fish makes a glaze with. the wine, which is to be 
coated over it ; by this means till there is no more 
liquid left in the pan. Remove the fish carefully 
into another pan when done, pour the remaining 
half of the wine into the fish pan, boil up, thioken 
with browned flour, and strain the sauce. Serve 
the portions of fish with a slice of lemon on top and 
the sauce poured under. 

A fish cooked in this manner served whole should 
be raised upon a shape of fried bread cut to fit the 
bottom of the dish. 



970. Eels. 

Cook either by frying, rolled in floor or breaded, 
or by stewing, and either cut in sections or split and 
boned and then cut in lengths. They oan also be 
broiled — boned and laid out flat for the purpose — 
and baked in a pan with wine, the pieces laid side 
by side, as so many small fish would be. Vast quan- 
tities of eels are sold in the markets, but only a small 
proportion go to American hotels. The large sorts are 
salted and smoked and find sale in large quantities 
in that form. Eel-pouts, bull-pouts and small cat- 
fish, ready skinned and cleaned likewise, are handled 
by the market men near the lakes in car load lots, 
which shows that the prejudice existing against 
these kinds is not universal. Clear meat of this de- 
scription is, however, generally very cheap — often 
by the barrel only three oents per pound, more gen- 
erally about five cents, and retails at seven or eight 
cents. Whatever good cooking can do to make sueh 
cheap, solid, and intrinsically valuable food accept- 
able to a larger number than at present unquestion- 



260 



TEE AMERICAN COOK,. 



ably ought to be done. Cooks, at least, ought to 
have no prejudices that should make them sight 
one article to elevate another. Their art is essen- 
tially one of equalization. 



Such artic'ei as eel and fiih pies, crahs soft and 
hard, mock crabs, matelottes or fish stews, turtle and 
terrapin, will be found in place in our forthcoming 
Hotel Book of Soups and Entrees. 



071 Salt Mackerel. 

As much care, if not skill is needed to have salt 
mackerel as good as cut be a* for anything that is 
done iu the kitchen. The particular point is to put 
it on in cold water and remove it from the fire the 
moment it begins to boil. It is then soft and tender, 
but becomes dry if allowed to boil hard. 

To prepare the mackerel for cooking, wash off the 
8 tit and steep them twenty-fuur hours in plenty of 
water, in a vessel set in a cold place. Lay them in 
with the skin side up, that the salt which is heavier 
than water may escape to the bottom; and charge 
the water once or twice. 

Scrape out the black skin of the inside of the 
mackerel, cut oil the head^, divide — -if for boiling — 
by cutting in three crosswise, but if for broiling 
split them lengthwise. Hang broiling mackerel up 
to dry about twenty-four hours before they are to be 
cooked When diBhed up pour a spoonful of clear 
melted butter over the piece of fish in the dish. 



It should be remembered by buyers of hotel stores 
that there is the utmost difference in quality between 
the different grades of mackerel, from fat mess to 
the thin ai:d rusty number fours, which, if of any 
use at all, certainly are not fit to broil. 



972. Salt Whiteflsh. 

The remarks relating to salt mackerel apply to 
these as well. Watchfulness is needed to keep the 
vessel they are soaked in sweet and in a oold place, 
or the fish will have constantly a half spoiled taste 
a%d be soft. 

When nicely freshened cook them only a few 
minutes, and serve with a cream or butter sauce, 
and sometimes with mustard sauce, which answers 
fur any sort of salt fish. 



973. Mustard Sauce. 

Make butter sauce (No. 917), half the usual quan- 
tity may do, and add a tablespoor.ful of made mus- 
tard and a pinch of cayenne. 



974. Salt or Pickled Salmon. 
Freshen it oy steeping in water two days, chang- 



ing the water occasionally, then cut in pieces and 
boil only a few minutes, and serve with a sauce that 
has no salt. 

It makes a good dinner dish also, cut in small 
pieces with potatoes cut to the same size, boiled 
together, then the water poured away and cream 
sauce poured to them instead. 



975. Canned Salmon. 

This should not be turned out of the cans. The 
greatest drawback to the use of canned salmon as a 
substitute fur fresh fish is its liability to break into 
crumbs. Open the cans and set them on the back of 
the range a short time before dinner, and dish out of 
the cans on the plates All the sauces, etc., suitable 
fur boiled fish can be used with this. The large cans 
are to be preferred to small for the reason above 
given. Canned salmon cold is a good and conve- 
nient dish for supper and lunch. 



975. Kippered Salmon. 

Is smoked silmon It is sliced, for breakfast and 
supper, and served cild without cooking; is toasted 
aud broiled and spread with butter, and also stewed 
with potatoes. 



976 Finnan Haddies. 

Smoked haddock. They are commonly, for res- 
taurant orders, plainly broiled over a slow fire or 
toasted, peppered, and brushed over with butter. 
May be improved by steeping in warm water before 
broiling, and by steeping in olive oil for several 
hours and then frying in the Bame. 



977. Smoked Herring. 

Picked apart in shreds and eaten without cook- 
ing, for lunch. Toast fine ones before the fire or on 
the broiler raised high above the coals. Serve on a 
hot dish. When large enough split them open and 
broil them flat on the wire broiler Pepper while 
cooking and spread butler over when done. 

978. Yarmouth Bloaters. 

Ofienest now ticketed in the shops "bloaters," 
only. They are the largest and fattest herrings, 
selected like "mess" mackerel from the common, and 
mild cured. Can be broiled and served most ele- 
gantly rolled in buttered paper. 



979. Smoked "Whiteflsh. 



Cook the same as herring or haddock. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



261 



9SO. Codfish Balls. 

1J pounds of raw pared pota.oes. 

1 pound of boneless codfish. 

2 basting spoonfuls of melted butter. 

3 or 4 eggs. 

1 small teaspoonful of pepper. 

Soak the codfish over night, boil it half an hour, 
pick over and mash it small. Cook the potatoes 
specially for the purpose. Mash all together, ball 
up with floured hands and fry brown. 



into the fish pan and water if necessary, let boil up, 
skim, and strain for sauce. 



981. Codfish in Cream. 

Steep and boil a pound of codfish, pick it apart 
when cool and mash it, but not very fine. Pour to 
it about the same quantity of cream sauce made 
wiihout salt, or add milk and butter to the fish and 
thicken it Blightly when it boils. 

982. Stewed Codfish. 

Pick the fish apart in flakes after boiling, and cover 
with cream sauce, or boil the flakes in milk, add 
butter and a few cooked potatoes cut up and some 
butter, and thicken slightly with flour-and-water 
thickening when it boils up again. These are good 
Friday dishes, and good to alternate with salt mack- 
erel and whitefish. 

983 Fried Smelts 

Draw the fish through the gills without opening 
them and wipe them clean. Dip in beaten egg and 
cracker meal, with care not to rub oif the breading 
as it will not adhere a second time and the grease 
gets under the coating. Fry a few at a time in a 
pan of hot lard. They should be done and of a 
handsome light brown color in four minutes. May 
also be plainly rolled in flour and fried like trout. 
See No. 869. 



984. Sea Bass Baked. 

Scale and clean the fish, take the head off unless 
it is to be served whole. Make a stuffing for it of 
4 pressed cupfuls of fine bread crumbs, 

1 cupful of butter, 
Rind of i a lemon finely minced, 
Parsley, green thyme and marjoram, 
Pepper and salt, 

2 eggs and a cup of warm water, 

Stuff the fish and sew it up. Mark it in slices as 
it is to be carved on both sides by cutting down to 
the bone and put a very thin slice of salt pork in 
each incision. Bake in a long pan with suet or 
drippings, stock and salt and pepper in it about 40 
minutes or according to size. 

Put a little strained tomatoes and brown gravy 



Sardines. 

(Magazine. ) 

"In regard to our food, as in other matters, there 
is no gainsaying the fact that things are not what 
they seem. The dainty little fishes that come to 
our tables elaborately packed in tiny tin cases, and 
smothered with olive oil, are supposed to have been 
captured where the waters of the Mediterranean lash 
Sardinian shores. In reality they are fiequently 
the product of what are known as the English and 
American Sardine fisheries. Sardines are simply 
the young of the pilchard (clupea pilchardus). They 
get their name from having been formerly caught 
in great numbers off the island of Sardinia. The 
Sardine is, in fact, a member of the herring family, 
and it is only its extreme youth and the manner of 
packing it that separate it from its relatives. 

The following very "fishy" bill of fare was used 
at the annual banquet of the Ichthyopagous Club ol 
New York city, held at the Palisade Mountain 
House, on the Hudson, June 6: 

Little Neck Clams 
Bisque of Razor Clams 

Consomme Lady Morgan 
Whitebait, Greenwich Style 
Souffle of fresh water Clams en coquille 

Moonfish Hollandaise 

Cucumbers Potatoes Duchesse 

Turban of Skate Toulouse 

Horseshoe crabs, farcis 

Small fillets of porpoise, saute Bordelaise 

Croquetts of dogfish, fine herbes 

Lamprey eels fried in crumbs 

Tenderloin of beef financiere 

Asparagus Green Peas 

Stuffed Tomatoes 

Salmon, sauce Tartare 

Alligator garfish, Ravigote sauce 

Brook trout in jelly 

Pate of eels 

Shrimp salad Lobster salad 

Punch du Chaillu 

Albany beef, larded au jug 



Lettuce 

Assorted cakes 

Cheese 



Grouper a la Foord 
Neapolitan ice cream 
Coffee 
Fruits 



A Good Hotel Refrigerator. 



A refrigerator of a convenient medium size 
that is perfectly satisfactory in filling all the re- 
quirements of an ice chest for all purposes, and 
an object of pride to both the proprietor and his 
New England steward, is in use at the American 
House, Denver, Colo. The diagram below 
shows the form and arrangement. It gives a 
front view as the interior appears when the 
doors are open. The height inside is six feet; 
depth, front to back, five and a half; the middle 
compartment for the ice is three feet wide; the 
cold rooms on each side three and a half. The 
drip from the ice is led away by a zinc drainer, 
and the space below is both dry and cold. The 
outside walls are, of course, double, and filled 
in with eight inches of dry sawdust. This re- 
frigerator is built close by the outer door on one 
side of a cellar basement, the store room being 
directly opposite. It is elevated a step or iwo 
from the floor. 



A Place for the blocks of ice, opening in front. 

BB Cold rooms fitted with shelves. Front doors. 

C Space under ice floor and zinc drainer where milk 
and butter may be kept. Frontdoor. 

DD Small doors open into the ice box letting the cold 
air in. 

EE Small doors open into a ventilating pipe letting the 
warm air and vapor out. 

Shelves. 



HOW TO CUT MEATS 



AND 



^\ 




T 



The entirB trade nf the Hotel Meat- Gutter, RoastBr and 

Hrniler, including " Short Orders, " 

□melBts, Btc, 



Being a part of the " Oven and Range " Series originally published in the 
Chicago Daily National Hotel Eeporter. 



JESSUP WHITEHEAD. 



-m CHICAGO *- 
1883. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the years 1877, 1879 and 

1880, by Jessup Whitehead, in the office of the Librarian 

of Congress, at Washington. 



RIGHT OF TRANSLATION RESERVED. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOB 

At the Office of the Daily National Hotel Reporter, 

78 Fifth Avenue 

chicago, ills. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



267 



SO IV TO CUT JSTTJJlTS. 



987. Hotel Beef and Beefsteaks. 

One of those va' liable citizens who live all their 
lives at a hotel or other similar public house, looked 
in where we were furnishing and gelling ready to 
open a new restaurant and remarked with evident 
pleasure in the anticipation: "Hi! now we shall be 
able to get a good, thick steak, a steak that is a 
steak, and that is what 1 have been wanting a long 
time." 

He meant that he would leave the firsl-class holel 
where he was boardiug and where the steaks cut in 
hotel style did not suit him, and would come where 
he could have a slice of beef an inch thick sawn 
through the bone and fat, upper loin, tenderloin and 
everything, just about where the figure 4 is seen in 
the diagram of a loin of beef below — that is if he 
meant to pay for a "porterhouse;" but if he would 
be content wiih a loiu steak, only caring to have it 
thick and not bealen out, he would have it cut in a 
cheaper place, about where the figures 2 and 3 are 
found. 

The remark and i he satisfied tone of it might seem 
to cast a retlec ion somewhere, but as the same cook 
would he in charge at the restaurant who had been 
at the hotel, the reflection could not be upon the 
cook ; and as nothing but good was spoken of the 
hotel table, it could not be upon the hotel in parlic- 
ular, but it was a reflection upon the hotel method 
to the extent that it did not suit this man's prefer- 
ences. At the hotel table he took his meal in from 
three to five courses, and the portions of the viands 
were proportionately small, but this individual pre- 
ferred a pound of beefsteak to all the variety and 
wanted little else. These are the reasons why res- 
taurants and hotels both flourish side by side. Both 
have their ways and their admirers. If we cut the 
holel beefsteak small it is because there is so much else 
offered that to cut it larger would be utterly useless 
and the prce of board would rule higher for no 
other reason than to pay for the wanton waste. The 
restaurant steak cut in the first class shape supposed 
will weigh from a pound to a pound and a half, and 
will cost as much alone as the price of an entire 
meal at weekly board rates at many good hotels. 
Very few besides eat the whole of such a slice of 
'.aeat; but as they pay a fixed price for it it is only 



individual loss. The hotel management culls and 
I rims in a way to make the least waste, and the un- 
eatable portions of bone and fat do not reach the 
table at all. 



Most hotel cooks like cut up meat ; the nicety of 
management, the methodical application of each 
poriion to its particular purpose, the neatness and 
orderly arrangement of the trays of prepared meats 
when they are placed in the refrigerators ready for 
the next meal, or it may be the association of this 
part of the day's work with the quiet time between 
meals all go to make the cook look upon the meat- 
cutting as something not to be left to another with- 
out cogent reasons. It is difficult for the cook to 
"keep track" of his meats if he does not cut tl em 
himself, for an entree or some new use for the por- 
tion in hand will often suggest itself at the time that 
would not be thought of in an abstract way, and 
the make-up of the next bill of fare becomes so 
much the easier; and then when he has finished he 
knows to a pound how much he must order for the 
next day. So that in hotels where three, four, or 
five cooks are employed the head cook generally 
does his own meat-cutting; in larger hotels it be- 
comes impracticable and another cook, the cutter and 
roaster, appears. 



The hotel method of cutting up meat is different 
in some respects from the butchers'. It is a system 
apart, and understood to be different, though not 
written down — like certain oral laws or unwritten 
statutes that prevail for a certain class, while all the 
rest cf the community are otherwise governed. The 
butcher sets apart for the hotel the "long loins" or 
"short loins," "short ribs" or "chuck ribs" of beef, 
and "racks" and sides of mutton, but he has differ- 
ent cuts with other names for other people. The 
butchers differ as well, there being London style, 
German style, and French style. Round or rump 
steaks it is said are unknown in France. The porter- 
house cut is American and not known to London 
butchers except as it may have been adopted from 
this side On the other hand the "aitch-bone," so 
common to London butchers and English cook books 
is unknown in American hotels, unless when the 
butcher to fill up the weight throws it in as a "butt " 



*68 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



988. The Porter-House Cut. 

Said to be derived from a New York hotel called 
the Porter House, where a party of sp-rismen one 
day found a roast like this prepared for cooking: 




American Pobteb-House Cut. 
But being unwilling to wait for the roasting they 
prevailed on the landlord so let them have it cut into 
steaks, and these pleasing them well they ordered 
more of the same cut for the next day, and after- 
wards brought hosts of other customers to eat the 
luscious Porter-House steaks. 

This cut is called the sirloin in England, so, as we 
lost the sirloin when it became porter-house, we 
moved the name and call that sirloin which the 
English call aitch-bone, the heavy end of the loin, 
and the best and meattiest, beginning where the 
porter-house ends, in the point of the hip bone. 

In our large diagram the porter-house cut is the 
section containing the figure 4 ; the sirloin is the 
section containing the figures 1 and 5; the thin end 
section with the numbers 2 and 3 is loin — a roasting 
or common steak piece. 

The next cut shows the "aitch-bone," from which 
the well-known sirloin steaks are cut like the one 
below: 




sells generally at 50 cents, the porter-house at 75c. 
The number of porter-house steaks that can be cut 
from a loin is 10 or 12. The woodcuts Bhow the 
first steak, cut nearest the rib end, and the last, cut 
at the line in the diagram near the figure 4. 




Last Portep-House, Cutting into the Hip-Bone. 
The sirloin steak previously shown is cut at about 
the point marked by the figure 5 in the diagram, 
just where the bone is smallest and the tenderloin 
is the thickest. All three of the steaks represented 
contain a portion of the tenderloin — the small divi- 
sion of lean meat at the bottom. 



American Sirloin Steak. 
The introduction of the new name, the porter- 
house cut, has, it is seen, caused a little confusion 
of terms. Restaurant keepers still find it conveni- 
ent to retain the name of sirloin for the steaks of 
the upper part, when the lower or tenderloin has 
been taken away, and the "porter-house" is then 
no longer compleie. A thick tenderloin steak alone 



So much for the restaurant cuts and their names. 
Though necessary to be known they have but little 
to do with the method of cutting up the loin for hotel 
use, in which the effort is made to equalize all parts 
and make good steak of the whole, and where this 
cannot be done to take off the roughness a'l in one 
piece so that it may be put to good use in other 
ways. The value of a cook's services depends 
greatly on his skill in this particular. One igno- 
rant of the locality of the different grades of 
meat, or not knowing how to shape it neatly may 
easily hack and hew at a loin in such a way that 
there will hardly be a good and presentable pound 
of steak got out of a hundred. The cooks of small 
houses that depend upon the butchers to cut their 
meats are (hereby spoiled for better positions. They 
may be good general cooks but if they cannot cut 
their own meats to advantage they may destroy 
more than they can earn, and an experienced hand 
may be cheaper at twice the wages. The writer has 
known well-meaning but untaught cooks to gouge 
out the fillet or tenderloin from a loin of beef to feed 
the cats on, or make beef tea, or gravy, under the 
supposition that it was the gravy meat or "rough- 
ness." Our instructions here are going to be very 
plain, and our cut is not that of a small and fancy 
loin, but of a large and long and rough one, that 
the les8on iu cutting may be thorough. 



989. Cutting Up the Loin of Beef. 

The dotted lines in the diagram show the location 
of the tenderloin or fillet in the under part of the 
loin It is to be taken out whole, either to be cut 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



2G0 



into steaks afterwards, or roasted. The culling out 
of the tenderloin is the first thing to be done. Ii 
will be found when the loin is turned over, covered 
over with the kidney fat, that must be taken off 
carefully so that the fillet will not be cut in doing it. 
Then begin where the figures 2 and 3 show the be- 
ginning and cut down along the backbone, raising 
up fat and all that comes, then raise the point of the 
fillet and cut under it close to the bone and then 
down from 3 to 4 and 5, raising up the fillet as you 
go. The thickest part is at figure 1. There the 
fillet dips down into the meat of the other side. It 
must be pulled over and cut along carefully with 
the point of the knife according to the apparent nat- 
ural division. The fillet ends at the high bone in tha 
buttock. 



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The tenderloin, lying on the table with the side, 
that was next to the bone downwards, you proceed 
to shave off the surplus fat and skin that was 
brought away with it. On the upper side that is 
covered with I his fat there is a smooth skin that 
covers the whole fillet. When the intention is to cut 
the fillet into steaks the fat should be cut level off 
to the top of it, and then a strip of the skin about 
as wide as a finger cut off the top of the meat the 
whole length. This prevents the steaks from curl- 
ing up when they are broiled, and is neater looking 
for the steaks than cutting notches in the edge as 
they are sliced off. When the fillet is to be larded 
• he whole of the skin covering has to be carefully 
removed and the surface left smooth. 



The four or five long liues that mark the loin in 
our drawing show whfre the Ntrak meat is to be cut 



into strips, the point of the knife going clear d iwn 
to the bone. The strips are to be cut out as the 
tenderloin was, then cut off in two inch lengths and 
beaten out flat with the side of the cleaver on the 
block. 

Now, the fortunate people who choose exactly 
where their meat shall be cut, and who caj make it 
at the butcher's peril to send them anything but 
small and tender meat do not need to make as many 
cuts or strips as this, except when they have a loin 
of fat Christmas beef, which is pretty sure to be 
large. 

A short loin, as it is called, is cut off at or about 
the straight line that is drawn across between the 
figures 5 and 6. A close-trimmed loin besides has 
the flank portion cut off at about the line thai runs 
lengthwise, also between the figures 5 and 6, and the 
choice little loin remaining will be further shortened 
at the thin end down lo about 2 and 3. After that the 
knife of the cutler is run dowu along tho back bone, 
md again, only once along that middle long line 
that runs between 3 and 4, and all the meat taken 
off in two lengthl pieces, then to be sliced into 
steaks. This we repeat, is the way for small, tender, 
close-trimmed loins. 

There are several reasons why hotel loins cannot 
be always of that choice Bort. In many places the 
butchers will not tuke hotel trade at all, because 
hotel meat always has to be the choice portions, and 
they cannot sell what is left on their hands. And 
even if the best hotel does get the pick and choice 
somebody has to take the remainder, or the long un- 
trimmed loin, or even the forequarter. So to com- 
mence in detail : 

Your long loin of beef being before you on the 
block, and you having to do your own trimming, 
commence by cutting out that piece of lean meat 
marked 6. The knife will be guided by the bone at 
top, and by the adjoining fat and gristle of the in- 
ner part. Having trimmed off the roughness hang 
up the piece on a hook. It is good steak and only 
has to be cut in three lengths and then sl'ct d across. 
Next, take off the flank in one piece, not only the 
section marked 8, but all the rest by the long line 
above. This is of but little use except for corning 
a nd mixing off with Bonie that is too lean. The 
part marked 8 is streaked with lean and does to 
roll up and braise tender, and does for spiced beef 
rolls, etc., and perhaps for rough steaks. The 
thin end of the loin has one rib in it, which the 
butchers out with the hind quarter to keep it 
stretched in good shape; it is a quesiion whether 
you want a roasting piece off the loin, and if so you 
will take off the the piece marked 2 and 3 ; if not, 
commence and take all the meat off in three or four 
strips, according to the size of the loin, as we men- 
tioned in the beginning. Always cut these strips 
into pieces with the knife slanted, Ihe edge cutting 
towards the tail, so as to cut across the gruin. 



270 



TEE ABIERICAN COOK. 



C ioks are generally expected to have the magic 
p >wer to make tough beef tender; for this reason 
we cut it into lumps instead of slices, and flatten it 
out with a blow. There is no method known, nor 
has any appliance yet been patented so effective for 
subduing obstinate beef as the disintegrating flat 
slap with the side of a heavy cleaver. It does no k 
make bad meat good but makes it passable: While 
we must allow that it is better if the beef is of the 
lender sort that may be sliced to the proper thinness 
in the first instance, and only needs the customary 
tip with the cleaver to smooth it down to shape; the 
fact is that in nine cases out of ten the heavy- 
handled course of treatment is a benefit to the 
public. Nor is that a method for poor beef alone. 
The huge tenderloin steaks, large enough to fill a 
dish, that are served with the choicest garnishings 
of peas, asparagus, mushrooms and the like might 
sorely puzzle a person who had never beaten out a 
stesk to know where they come from so large. 



batter-cakes and syrup — coffee, chocolate and ten, 
and a few extra". It is well 10 keep the few steaks 
that come larger than the rest, by accident, and not 
large enough to cut in two, for those who wish beef- 
steak only. Such are known among the cooks and 
waiters as "a full order of beefsteak," etc. 

Always notch the edge of the steak through the 
fat, that it may not curl on the gridiron. 



990. A Restaurant Tenderloin. 

Cut off a section of a fillet of beef about 3 or 4 
inches in length, or according to the thickness of the 
meat ; remove a portion of the skin that encircles it 
and flatten it out to form a large steak 1 inch in 
thickness, on the block with the cleaver. Trim off 
the rough edges. 



The poorest eating, unless the beef itself be fat, of 
what are called first-class steaks are cut from or close 
to I he ribs — about figures 2 and 3; but these, cut thick 
and not beaten, form the staple "loin steaks" at 
many restaurants. Their neat shape is their recom- 
mendation, and stands there instead of a higher 
quality. The best steaks in any quality of beef are 
cut about and above figures 5 and 1. The meat here 
is better than the tenderloin, although that has the 
greater name on account of its comparative scarcity. 
Where the long lines end in the dark part of the 
diagram is a mountain of bone. A solid piece of 
meat of good size at figure 7 is good if cooked five 
hours, or more — braised or a la mode. If there be a 
portion of the solid lean meat of the round on the 
great bone of the long loin, slice it in any way that 
will cut across the grain and make 2 or ?-ounce 
steaks. To know whether you are cut ting the steaks to 
the right size weigh some occasionally; they are large 
individual steaks when they weigh 3 ounces each or 
5 to the pound — equal to half a pound each of beef- 
steak as the butcher sells it with the bone and rough- 
ness. The loin from which our drawing was made, 
y ears ago, weighed 108 pounds, and was all cut into 
gteaka that weighed 7 to the pound, and they were 
the regular size and large enough. For your hotel 
people take for breakfast — fruit — mush — fish, either 
salt or fresh — beefs'eak, mutton chops, bacon, 
breaded cutlets, and potatoes — ham and eggs, tripe, 
liver and pigs-feet — rolls and butter — toast, milk, 



Contrary to what might be expected the proportion 
of bone to meat is as great in a short loin os a long 
one. the fleshy piece marked 6, ballancing in the 
long loin the preponderance of hip bone above. The 
short loin does not get quite all the tenderloin. If 
the long loin be cut so as to have five or s : x inches 
depth of the round attached, which is all solid meat 
and the best quality of that cut, it will furnish a 
larger proportion of small steaks than any other 
shape of loin. 



991. Results of the Cutting. 

The size of a hotel's business is often con- 
cisely stated among the employes by the number of 
loins of beef cut up for supper or breakfast or per 
day. Two or three loins for supper represents a 
rush of trade, only it has to be taken into ace unt 
whether they are long or short loins. As only one- 
third of the gross weight makes first-rate steaks, and 
the cutting is usually done in haste, it becomes a 
matter of some concern to know v. hat to do with and 
what becomes of the rest. 

The loin having been cut up as marked out in the 
last article we find it in seven diflerent portions — 
(and what rules in this case is nearly the same in 
all meat cutting) — namely: 

Sirloin steaks — first-class. 

Tenderloin steaks — first-class. 

Coarse steaks or corning pieces. 

Roasting piece, rib and flank. 

Scraps, shapeless odds and ends. 

Tallow and kidney. 

Bone. 

Nothing can be easier than to ascertain that such 
grading is necessary. Let a man take up the piece 
of the thick rich-looking flank of fat beef, that will 
usually weigh ten pounds, and see the impossibility 
of getting steaks out of it that would do to send to a 
first-class or second class table. The loin roas' ing piece 
may be cut into steaks, but it is not over five pounds 
and the shallow and fat portion attached with the 
rib will weigh much more, and does not furnish a 
single steak that will pass for first-class. 

A tally kept of ten successive loins of beef 
some years ago, at a summer hotel, where, while 
everything was bought of the best quality that 
money could procure, the meat supply was simply 
just what the town butcher was able to furnish with 
his limited facilities, and contracts for special cuts 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



271 



or strictly prime qualities were out of the question. 
Consequently the following exhibit may be supposed 
to represent a fair average for the great majority of 
hotels the country over. 












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The averages of the above totals are bone, one- 
fifth, or 20 lbs. in every 100; tallowOlbs; scraps, sin- 
ews, Bhapeless ends 7 lbs.; thin flank, rib and roastiDg 
piece 12 lbs ; tough, coarse meat that may be cut 
into steaks or used in better ways, one-fifth or 20 
lbs. in every 100 ; tenderloin 5 lbs.; good culled 
steaks, all designated sirloin, three-tenths, or 30 lbs. 
in every 100. 



992. What To Do "With the Pieces. 

Some beef that is furnished is so good and tender 
that an enjoyable steak may be cut off (be brisket or 



at the back of the horns. Other beef comes along that 
is tough even to the upper portion of the porter- 
house. There are butchers who carry on a trade in 
nothing else but young and tender meat, and to have 
any that the cook would need to cull and sort could 
be for them only the result of accident. These must 
still, however, be regarded as the exceptional few. 

It is common enough to make a practice of cutting 
up everything that will make a steak, in a mechan- 
ical sort of way, oooking and sending it in to the 
suiferers — for as the cook justifies himself by say- 
ing "he does not make the beef." 

In Europe where they don't know how to keep 
hotel, they let the deck-hands get away with the 
thirty pounds of choice sirloin steaks and send the 
steaks cut from that we have designated as coarse 
meat in to the guests at table, who thereupon go 
away anathemising the hotel, though the deck- 
hands say the cook is a fine man. They manage 
these things differently in the United States. 

Some cooks, and others, who "do not nialie the 
beef," but who do know that it can be sorted, avoid 
that as far as possible by mixing off the good and 
bad whenever there is a chance 60 to cut (hat one 
eatable mouthful will carry two uneatable along with 
it. The uneataole will afterwards be found among 
the waste and refuse scraped from the dirty dishes. 
Some sort of system that would leave such uneata- 
ble portions intact on the cook's hooks in the meat 
house, to be made eatable and even delicious by 
proper cooking must be preferable to such an ab- 
sence of any system whatever. The portions that 
are uneatable as steaks, except in very good fat beef, 
are all that marked 7 and below it in the diagram, 
and the upper or outside of the round, and another 
portion that is too fat. The other deduction called 
the flank roast in our table will be understood by a 
glance at the two drawings of porterhouse steaks. 
It is the fat, narrow, and coarse textured meat of 
the right hand side. In the same list go the scraps 
and shapeless ends. 

Hotel entrees are in the main only devices for 
using up these odds and ends of meat. All the 
science and skill there is to learned in cookery is 
needed in this direction, and all the tact and taste in 
the individual is called into play to make these gen- 
erally supposed to be the worser portions appear the 
belter, and make them more sought after than even 
the selected cuts. 



As to the tenderloin — 5 lbs. out of a hundred — 
the cook and the head-waiter together vote that 
away in steaks. As these steaks are generally cut 
larger than the rest, and twice as large as our table 
of weights and proportions says they ought to be, 
and as there are not enough for everybody they are 
generally bestowed as rewards of merit. Sometimes 
they are given to the best looking people. Some- 
times to the people who do the most good. Where 



272 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



there is any danger that the waiter and the head 
waiter may differ in opinion of who these people are, 
the latter has checks printed — "good for one ten 
derloin steak" — which the waiter may obtain upon 
proper representations, and they will be duly hon- 
ored by the cook as long as his bank remains solvent 
and there is a steak left in the pile; due watchful- 
ness being exercised to see that the checks are noi 
cleverly executed counterfeits of the waiter's own. 

Anoiher reference to our table of figures shows 
that the tenderloin varies greatly in size according 
to the make-up of the different beeves. The choices! 
loin in ten had only 3 pounds of tenderloin. 

Sometimes the steward is incredulous and says: 
"What, no tenderloin left? Why, you cut up a loin 
this morning." Yes, but the weights vary from 
three to six pounds each. 



The six pounds per hundred of beef suet can be 
put to very good use, saving that amount of butter 
or lard for pastry and puddings, and when rendered 
out in a baking pan in the range serving for frying 
fat. The kidney, if included, is worth its piece as 
meat. It weighs a pound, and is useful in the bill 
of fare. 



The 20 pounds of bone in the 100 goes to make 
the soup, along with the bones of other meats, and 
(he boiled fowls and legs of mutton. With this ob- 
ject in view, all the bones should be taken out of 
the meats that can be without detriment to their 
juiciness and good shape, and very little, if any, 
more than what the hotel meat house furnishes of 
this sort, with the few really surplus cms — the 
shanks of veal, etc. — will be needed to make the 
best of stock. 



993. Short Loin Average. 

Short loins, close cut and trimmed, averaging 30 
pounds, when cut up, will average as follows: Bone, 
7J lbs ; tenderloin, 4J lbs; sirloin steaks, 13 lbs ; 
coarse meat and fat, 5 lbs.; or, about 85 individual 
steaks of five to the pound, and 20 rough steaks or 
stewing meat— all more or less. 



994. Cutting Up the Fore Quarter. 

The choice rib roast of beef is the portion marked 
11 in the diagram — it is generally known as the 
short ribs. The next best is the chuck ribs, marked 
2. Where the hotel or restaurant buyer can take 
choice he takes all of those portions that are clear of 
the shoulder blade, which is marked by dotted 
lines. It is generally made compulsory, however, 
for the buyer to take the whole from B to B, and 
often a longer cut, including the lower part of the 
ribs. The butcher's own idea of the best roast for a 
hotel is to cut from A to A and send all — roast, ribs 



and brisket. In such a cut the roast weighs half of 
he g>-os^ amount, the ribs and brisket the rest. 




Supposing the house buys the entire fore quarter 
and out of it you have to cut the roasting pieces and 
steaks, as well as the corning, boiling and stewing 
pieces, we will proceed as with the long and un- 
trimmed loin. 

First, with knife and saw, take out the roasting 
pieee, from B to B, and upwards to the top of the 
shoulder. The choice roast cut, whether in hotel or 
restaurant, is a slice clear of bone off the end, above 
B, and the same cut with the same slant of the 
knife towards the tail, is to be continued clear to the 
other end at 2. Observe, therefore, that there is no 
use in cutting it any lower down than the proper 
length of a slice for the dish; it is better to let the 
surplus be a cut to itself, as marked 3, than to bang 
a useless string on the roasted slice. Where three 
or four of these whole rib roasts are used every day, 
the difference amounts to something. At figure 2 
the piece of blade bone divides the roast in an in- 
convenient manner. The piece of meat on top of 
the blade is called "the cap." The butchers skewer 
it up tight after taking out the bone and sell both 
parts together, but for good hotel roasting it is bet- 
ter to take off the cap in one piece and make the 
lower part uniform in size of slices with the other end. 




butcher's boast. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



27H 




HOTEL EOAST. 

The object of coiling up the roast is to get rid of 
the thin meat. The best end roast is made up so 
by cutting down both sides of each rib and taking 
it out, the thin fat meat marked 3 3 in the diagram 
being then coiled around No. 1. After roasting the 
thin meat is to be disposed of by slicing off the roast 
h rizontally. 

Whether or not that is the best way must be alto- 
gether determined by the circumstances governing 
i ach case. 

Where there is a bill of fare and a variety of vi- 
ands to choose from, and where the persons served 
with a slice of such coiled up beef would be likely 
to select from it only the choice inner portion, leave 
the reston their plates and make a dinner from the 
eutrees.it is better, as in the case of the loin manage- 
ment, to keep this thin, straggling and fat meat back 
and put it to good use in other ways. The best way 
to use the cuts marked 3 3 is as rib ends of beef, 
ba'ted till tender, or boiled, and served with some 
good accompaniment. 

The brisket marked 4 is a choice boiling and 
corning piece. 

I he square, 5, contains the best steak; a small 
portion of it is as tender and good as any part of the 
beef. The first of the steaks shown is cut across 
where the bone is smallest, at 5, the other is cut at 
1 B, above. To get at these it is necessary to cut of} 
the shoulder, raiding it up and cutting under so as 
to bring away all the meat from the ribs beneath it 
to make the cuti the larger on the shoulder. These 
are the butcher's steaks; the method for intlividua 
steaks does not require the bone to be sawn through, 
but the meat is to be divided in lengths and then 
B iced crosswise of the grain, and beaten out with 
the cleaver. 




The shoulder having betn removed the ribs be. 
neath will be almost bare and fit only fo- the slock 
boiler, but the breast, or brisket — called "the 
plates" by the butcher — makes the best corned beef, 
and boiled beef, and the bones make the richest 
scup. 

The meat at 6 makes a thin roast, of poor quality, 
unless the beef be fat, but, with all the rest of the 
neck, it is as good as the best to stew, or salt and 
boil, or to ^roll up and braize tender with veget- 
ables and gravy. 

The "cap," taken off at 2 and B, makes either 
steaks or a roasting or braizing piece. It is disfig- 
ured with a streak of grist that runs through it 
the flat way, but which dissolves with long cookiug 
and makes the meat the better. 

The shank, being broken up, is one of the princi- 
pal reliances for the soup boiler. 

In some of the large city butcher's shops great 
trays or baskets full of pieces of beef boneless and 
all of a size and of the same appearance, may be 
seen prepared evidently for Bome special purpose. 
These are roasts — as we will call them for convenience 
sake — taken off the necks of beef, the dark-shaded, 
throat part in our cut, perhaps unsaleable in the 
shops, but to be sent to the prisons and workhouses 
and other such institutions, there probably to b) 
cooked by steaming or boiling in a way to make 
them as good for nutriment and health and strengm 
as the best cuts in the beef. 

The fore quarter ofjbeef averages nearly one-thiid 
bone. 



CHUCK STEAK, FKOM SHOULDEB. 



995. The Round of Beef. 

The long loin untrinimed containing bona to the 
amount of one-fifth its weight, the short loin divest- 
ed of the rough meat of the flank having one-fourth 
its weight, and the fore quarter entire about the 
same, it will be seen that the most profitable cut as 
regards the amount of meat for the buyer is the 
long loin with the larger half of the round attached, 
which is nearly all solid meat. In a good fat beef 
the round steak is the juiciest, and not inferior to 
any other cut, allowance always being made for the 
difference between the "silverside," as the English 
call it,'and the tough portion opposite that is scarcely 
eatable as beefsteak, but needs different cooking. 




BOUND STEAK. 



274 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



The lough side i9 only about one-third of it In 
culling up the round for individual steaks selection 
should be made, the good side cut lengthwise into 
suitable pieces and these sliced across the grain 
and the tough side should be taken off entire, and 
where such meat will not answer for beefsteaks, but 
a better quality is required, it should be either 
cooked tender by boiling in the stock boiler and 
then quickly browned in a baking pan and served 
with gravy as well done roast, or else as boiled beef, 
or stewed, or salted, or a la mode. 



996. Veal Tenderloins. 

Where veal is used every day it will be found ad- 
visable to take out the tenderloins and reserve them 
to make entrees. "Milk veal" is not often eaten by 
Americans, but that of from three to six months old 
generally furnished yields tenderloins of good size, 
and they are apt to be overlooked and lost in the 
haste of carving if left on the roasts. Anything 
with the name of tenderloin has a passport to pub. 
lie favor already — beef tenderloin, pork tenderloin, 
veal tenderloin — and the latter makes some dainty 
dishes. It needs short and quick cooking to keep it 
moist and juicy, and a dash of lemon juice or vine- 
gar in the preparation, the same as sweetbreads. 




SIDE OF VEAL. 

Number 1 is the loin best end, nearly all meat , and 
answering to the porterhouse cut in beef. No. 2 is 
nearly all bone. Many a buyer is deceived by it 
who takes it for a roast for dinner. A few cutlets 
may be got of! it, (he rest is for the soup pot. No. 3 
is the fillet in veal, the same as the round of beef, 
nearly all meat except at the bulging knuckle. 

It is sometimes, the bone being taken out, ttuffed 
and roasted or braised, but is most serviceable in 



the form of cutlets, both rjlain and breaded, wlii'e 
the shoulder and ribs do better to roast. No. 6 is 
called the neck, as well as No. 7, and takes in all 
the ribs like the rib rois-ts of beef. When a large 
roast of veal is required, after taking off the shoulder 
siw through all the ribs at the place of the dotted 
line the entire length from the neck back to about 
figure 2, leaving the brisket 9 and 0, and the flank 
part of 1, all in one piece, to be used in various 
other ways. 

To make the rib or "neck" roast of veal conven- 
ient for the carver take off all of the back bone and 
the strip of gristle along the edge before cooking, but 
leave the shortened ribs in it. If of proper size eve- 
ry alternate slice as it is carved will carry a bone 
with it, which can easily be detached with the carv- 
ing knife. 

When taking off the shoulder, which should be the 
first cut, run the knife upwards very close to the 
blade bone at the place marked by the figure 6, so as 
to leave all the meat on the ribs and none on the under 
side of the shoulder. 

The shoulder can be roasted entire, or boned 
and rolled and roasted, or boned, larded and cooke^ 
as a fricandeau, etc. 

The two shanks, 4 and 5, may be closely trimmed 
and the meat used for stews and pies, if they can be 
spared from the soup. 

Veal, or the bones and trimmings, imparts the 
richest color to brown gravy, and makes the most 
excellent soups and broths. 



In regard to the names, it is to be observed the 
"neck" ro^st is never seen in hotel bills of fare on 
this side the Atlantic; the word neck would not 
convey the idea of the choice rib portion that is in. 
tended. When it is not written plain "roast veal" 
it is either loin of veal or fillet. 



The French cooks who had to introduce French 
cooking into England — Careme and his followers — 
were evidently impatient at having to call the round 
of veal a fillet, aecording to English us>.ge, for after 
dismissing the fillet of veal shortly and curtly ^they 
ran to extremes in this way: Take — their directions 
say — a fine neck of veal and fillet it, lard the fillet 
closely with a.Ueraa.te fillets of red tongue and fillets 
of fat bacon; place the fillet thus prepared in a 
saute-pan, etc., elc. — thus running in a dozen rep- 
etitions of the fillet in a way to sadly confuse one 
who had just learned that the fillet of veal is the 
leg. 



In the flush days of Leadville two cooks were one 
day talking over this matter over their beer. One 
of them was gray haired, traveled, learned and mys- 
terious. Said he: 'One thing I have learned, any 
way, and I want you to believe it and mind what I 
tell you: Every living thin" \r ereation's got a fillet, 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



275 



but don't you never bet you know where it is no 
more than you would on three card monte, 'cause 
it's never there." 

997. The Side of Mutton. 

There is a curious and most inconvenient dispro- 
portion between the number of orders for mutton 
chops and for mutton in aay other form; making 
the hotel demand for "racks" alone of mutton as 
burdensome to the butchers as the demand for short 
loins of beef. In many places the prices are eo ar- 
ranged that the hotel buyer can get the racks if he 
will pay enough for them, but the remainder of the 
side of mutton is offered so cheap that it is like 
getting it for nothing in comparison, and the next 
thing the eutire side, or entire sheep is found hang- 
ing in the hotel meat house. 

In the accompanying cut No. 1 is the leg; 2 is the 
loin, and the two loins undivided make the saddle 
of mutton, to be cut out according to the dotted 
lines. But a choice loin of mutton roast takes in 
also six ribs, marked 3. That is to say, if the 
butcher sells you a loin of mutton it should consist 
of both 2 and 3, according to the butcher's names of 
cuts, and 4 and 6 together are called the neck, best 
end and scrag end. In the butchers' shop", also, the 
shoulder, No. 6, is generally sliced through with the 
ribs, to make chops, and those who buy must neces- 
sarily fry such large and bone-divided slices as they 
are. Our directions for trimming and shaping will 
not apply unless the cook cuts up the side or the 
quarter himself. 




SIDE OF MOTION. 



998. Cutting T7p the Side. 

First take off the shoulder small, leaving all the 
meat under the blade on the rib chops at 6gure 4, 
which may be easily spoiled by too deep a cut. Next, 
saw oft the brisket at the dotted straight line that 



runs between 3 and 7, beginning at the throat 
and taking off all the length back to the leg in one 
piece. 

Then cut the side in two in the middle and yon 
have the rack ready for trimming into chops. 

Where several racks are to be cut up the wnrk- 
manlike way is to cut a strip of the meat an i cli 
wide from the ends of all the ribs at once, finishing 
the scrapingof the ends after the division into chops; 
but for one rack at a time it is as quick to cut first 
and trim one by one after. The same with the back 
bone. It has to be taken off, and may either be 
sawn off the whole length of the rack at once, or 
taken off each chop piecemeal. 

Cut the loin also into chops, each with the porii™ 
of bone belonging chopped through till the great hip 
bone beyond No. 2 is reached, when it is best to 
cut the steaks from the bone with the point of the 
knife, and all the way from the ribs keep the handle 
slanting towards the inside of the leg till the last 
steak is taken off parallel with the leg bone, and 
when the fleshy part of the other side of the leg at 
1 is cut off in one piece the bone will be left clean 
trimmed. 

Trim the chops and cutlets a little, cut through 
the outside skiu to prevent curling up on the broil- 
er, and flatten them with a tap of the cleaver. 



A side of mutton cut from end to end yields 
about 30 chops and cutlets, (or steaks) without in- 
cluding the leg, but only 20 are first-class. 
There is the same inquiry for "a chop with a bone 
in it," or "a chop with a handle to it," that there is 
for tenderloin steaks. There are but 10 fine rib 
chops and 3 rough and tough ones. The loin chops 
at No. 2 are the best eating, and many people ap- 
preciating the fact are well content with them. Stil^ 
after that concession is made, the American indiffer- 
ence to roast shoulder and boiled leg of mutton 
makes the sheep seem a remarkably ill-proportioned 
animal, its racks so few, its legs and shoulders so 
numerous. 



The shoulder of mutton, if fat, is best roasted as 
it is, with the bone in it. It is sweeter and juicier 
that way, and furnishes a few good cuts lengthwise. 
But it is more economical boned and rolled up with 
twine, and can be most readily disposed of if stuffed, 
nicely seasoned and cooked tender. The brisket 
and neck can easily be used to advantage in stews 
and pot pies. 

The leg of mutton is supposed to be in demand to 
boil and serve with caper sauce. In point of fact 
the orders for it from a bill of fare will run about 
four out of fifty on an average, and of those four two 
will refuse it if cooked rare, English fashion, and the 
other two will refuse it if cooked well done. Better 
cut it up for breaded mutton cutlets for breakfast 
and plain boiled for supper. 



276 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



999 The Side of Veal. 

Every portion of the side of veal being Under and 
fit for the beat uses there is but little selection to be 
made. When it is a question whether to buy the 
hind quarter or the fore quarter it can only be said 
the difference in quality does not justify any greater 
price being paid for the former. The knuckle and 
shank and hip bone are largely in proportion to 
meat ia the hind quarter. The fore quarter yields 
the best roasts and rib cutlets and more useful side 
dish material than the other. But the whole side is 
better, for with that in the absence of poultry, 
brains, sweetbreads and the like small meats, the 
cook who has a bill of fare to make up is still pretty 
well provided. 



lOOO. English Mutton Chops. 

(restaurant order.) 

Cut the chops of double thickness, two ribs in 
each one; then take out one rib and leave all the 
meat on the other. Flatten it very slightly to smooth 
it, but leave it thick. A rack of mutton only fur- 
nishes four, composed of the eight best ribs. 



lOOl. The Side of Lamb. 

The dainty dish of spring lamb may easily be 
spoiled, or at least made very unsatisfactory by 
careless cutting. If you take off tbo shoulder it 
will scarcely make two good orders when roasted, 
End the nbs underneath it will amount to nothing 
Nearly all who choose their cuts ask for the ribs 
("with some meat on 'em and well covered with 
fat") and the carver needs all that the cook can fur- 
Instead of takiug the shoulder off bono it where it 
is, beginning at the throat. Cut along on both sides 
of the blade bone and pull it out. There will not be 
much time for careful boning, nor is it necessary, five 
minutes or less will do. Saw the ribs across the mid. 
die, hack through the back bone with the point of a 
sharp cleaver at two ribs apart and hack the brisket 
through ready for cervinginthe same manner. Then 
pull the meat of the shoulder well over the brisket 
and fasten it with a skewer or two. When carved, 
the ribs will carry a good, meaty 6'.ice of the 
shoulder "i»ith them, and with a little management 
the brisket ends of the ribs can be equally well por- 
tioned off. 

The side thus prepared should be roaBted in one 
piece, loin and flank included, but the leg requiring 
more time to cook, should be made a separate cut 
The loin should likewise be carefully hacked through 
tbe back bone ready for carving into slices like loin 
chops. 

The saddle of lamb is the same as of mutton, the 
two loins undivided. It is a roast for a family din- 
ner or small party, the meat to be neatly carved in 



slices without hacking through, precisely as at the 
hotel carving table the thin white slices are carved 
from the leg and loiD. 



1002. Lamb Cutlets. 

For cutlets proceed with the side of lamb the same 
as with muttoo, taking off the shoulder, leg and 
brisket. Take off the back bone the whole length 
in one piece carefully without losing any of the 
meat (there should be a small, sharp saw for the 
purpose), then cut off the two ribs together, take 
out one bone and leave all the meat on the other. 
Scrape the end of the bone, flatten the cutlet, noich 
the edge, trim off rough ends and gristle. Cut the 
loin into chops (cutlets) the same thickness, and the 
leg, if needed. The shoulder, if used for chops, 
must be sawn across through the bone, making four 
slices. 



When making up your breakfast bill of fare al. 
ways write them lamb cutlets and not chops, for all 
the world and his wife wdl call for lamb chops, but 
if they are lamb cutlets there will be a great saving. 
Everybody knows what a chop is too well. 

For breaded lamb cutlets the slices cut from the 
leg should be used, unless for an omamen'al dish, 
when the prepared rib cutlets will be required. 

The brisket or breast" of lamb is a choice portion 
for side dishes, broiled, fricasseed, curried, etc., etc 



1003. Rocky Mountain Sheep. 

The meat is not easily distinguishable from veni- 
son except when it is very fat, then it has a decided 
flavor of muttou. Fat bucks will sometimes weigh 
as high as three hundred pounds each, but the or- 
dinary weight is about a hundred and fifty pounds. 
The hair is like that of a deer. The yarns that 
every hunter tells to every "tenderfoot" as soon as 
this species of game is mentioned, of how tbe Rocky 
Mountain sheep can throw itself from the highest 
precipices and land on the rocks below on its pon- 
derous curled horns unhurt, the hunters themselves 
do not believe. 

The choice morsel is the rib chops cut of double 
thickness and broiled or fried rare done. The loin 
and leg can be cut into chojs and steaks, and 
broiled, or can be roasted and served with currant 
jelly, and in all the ways that venison is served 
It is good meat, and every part can be made use 
of. 



1004. Antelope. 

Those who think the highest pitch of excellence 
in meat is excessive tenderness should be happy 
with antelope, which is tender even to softness. 



THE AMERICAN COOK 



277 



However, the meat has a peculiar musky flavor and 
little or no fatness, and is but little called for after 
the first day or two of novelty. Only the hind 
quarters are used. Cut it into steaks to broil or 
fry, or roast and serve with jelly or game sauces. 



1005. Elk. 

Good for a brief novelty, but is intrinsically not so 
good as poor beef, which it closely resembles. It is 
cut into roisls and steaks in all respects the same as 
beef. 

1006. Venison. 

Doubtless the best of wild meats and best worth 
buying for hole! use. Every part is valuable, good 
soups being made from the neck and coarse pieces 
and stews aud hunters' pies from the rough cuts. 
The choice morsel is the rib chops cut of double 
thickness and broiled. The shoulders may be 
roasted, care being taken not to dry them out. The 
hind quarter is the choice roasting portion. 



The English term haunch of venison seems never 
to have become Americanized, but remains an unfa- 
miliar word and unsuitable for the hotel bill of fare. 
Some seem to expect from it something peculiar and 
unusual like the hump of a buffalo. Saddle or leg 
of venison are common and well understood. 



1007. Bear. 

Who buys a bear buys a curiosity, something for 
the guests to talk about and be pleased with, but 
makes them a present to that extent, for nothing 
appreciable is saved in the meat bill by it. It is 
ordered very generally in addition to the usual 
meats, to be tasted and ventured upon carefully 
rather than to be actually eaten, while those to 
whom it is no novelty rarely order it at all, unless 
they know it to be young. 

The meat of the black bear is the best. It is good 
in the fall when fat, and to be tender enough to eat 
must either be of a young animal or have been kept 
afier killing long enough to be on the verge of spoil- 
ing. The meat has the sweet taste of pork, but is 
very dark colored, and, like pork, it is hard to cook 
done. Bear steak will generally bring forty or fifty 
cen's per pound in market, owing to its rarity. A 
bear ham makes the best roast served with jelly or 
cranberry sauce. The flank and breast can be made 
into hunters' stew3, ragouts, etc. 

1008. The 'Possum and the 'Coon. 

Though insignificant as articles of provision these 
two sleek animals, the one a marsupial with a pre- 
hensile tail and the other a fighting rodent, are 
blamable for much of the troubles of hotel keeping 



in the South and Southwest. For if the hotel help 
and especially the colored cook and his helpers, who 
have to work seven days in a week as it is, go rak- 
ing through the woods all night, with axes on their 
shoulders and ' possum dogs" at their heels and fell 
ree afier tree by the light of lanterns aud help the 
dogs in the chase after the game when it jumps out 
of the falling 'simmon bush, it is not to be expected 
that the fire in the range will be made very early, 
nor the rolls light, nor the corn bread well done, nor 
the meats ready cut, nor the griddle hot, nor the 
biscuits anyway but burnt black on top through fir- 
ing up the range with grease while the inside is still 
dough, to eay nothing about the prospect of dinner 
where the cook is asleep in a chair at eleven o'clock 
in the morning. 

Nevertheless the opossums will be fat and large — 
not at all like the poor runts to be seen exposed for 
sale in South Water street, taken in northern corn 
fields, but which no Arkansas 'possum hunter or 
'possum dog would be seen in company with — and 
must be prepared for roasting with sweet potatoes 
in the pan. For it is more than likely that with the 
prospect of having one of these, the largest of course, 
for supper for himself and friends, the colonel who 
keeps the hotel will forget and forgive the troubles 
of the morning, whether his wife does or not. 

The oppossum if you hold him by the natural hold, 
the tail, will climb up on it and bite. He must be 
killed by a blow on the head. Then dip him in 
water that is hot enough to scald but not boiling, with 
a shovelful of wood ashes in it, and scrape him clean 
as you would a pig. The skin is very fat aud easily 
scalded too much so that the hair cannot be removed, 
and a skinned 'possum is of jno good at all. Draw 
it, wash, truss and bake it whole. 

The coon, on the contrary, has to be skinned, the 
skin being worth something beside, and should then 
be split in halves lengthwise to bake. 



1009. Buffalo. 

Buffalo more nearly resembles beef than anything 
else, but is not so good. It is ordered by most peo- 
ple while still a novelty, but not sought after. Cut 
up the same as beef, into tenderloin, loin, round and 
rib roasts. 

It will piobably not be long before the buffalo will 
be extinct, the spanning of the great plains by rail- 
roads having made the destruction of the vast htrds 
easy to the hunter for their "robes." There was a 
time when the first Pacific railroad was being con- 
structed, that buffalo meat was plentiful enough in 
the markets to materially interfere with the sale of 
beef and lessen the price, and when it was a drug at 
the stalls at three cenis a pound. It has already be- 
come a rarity only to be obtained ii» freezing weath- 
er from remote territories in the northwest. 



L7S 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



IOIO. Cutting up a Porker. 

As " times change and men change with them," 
fresh pork has gone out of fashion, being no longer 
the favorite kind of meat it was twenty years ago, 
unless it may be in a few remote localities. 

The great wastefulness cf pork as an artiole of 
hotel provision is consequently a matter of but lit tie 
concern, though hotel buyers need still to observe 
critically the difference between a butcher's porker, 
which is not more wasteful than a fat sheep, and a 
fat bacon hog, which will hardly yield five pounds of 
meat for the plates out of twenty. five, even after the 
butcher has made a show of taking off the thick- 
est of the lard from the outside. In a great many 
hotels this is the only kind of pork furnished the year 
round, nobody observing the difference, while all the 
figures in the meat bills are high numbers. 




A PORKER. 

Number 1 shows the extent of the shoulder blade 
which may be sawed through and the little piece 
taken out of the shapely roast, number 4. Some 
good cutlets can be taken off at 2, if the shoulder is 
cut carefully, leaving the spareribs under it bare 
The butchers call number 4 the fore loin and 5 the 
hind loin. The entire length can be cut into chops 
or roasted, the skin being first taken off. It is not 
customary to trim the ends of the bones of pork 
chops as mutton chops are trimmed, though it would 
be hard to advance a reason why there should he a 
difference. The leg, number 6, is equally good for 
roasting or to be cut into pork steaks The belly, 
number 3, is somewhat hard to dispose of economi- 
cally, being too much streaked with fat to roast or 
broil. It can sometimes be used in the form of brown 



stews, for which the meat is first fried and freed 
from fat; it does to fry in slices to go with chicken 
in the Maryland style, but best of all it may be put 
into pickle and used in the score of ways and dishes 
that require salt pork. The head may be prepared 
fur the table in many ways, both cold and hot, as 
may be found fully described elsewhere, 

1011. Cutting up a Bacon Hog. 

Take off the head. Split the carcass in two halves 
down the back, not through the back bone as in cut- 
ting roastiDg meat, but sawing or chopping down 
both sides, taking the back bone out entire, and 
generally it is thought worth while to leave a good 
portion of lean meat on it, for the back bone makes 
several good dishes and the lean meat is of but little 
account in the bacon. 

The chine of pork is the thick part of the back 
bone taken with considerable meat from between 
the shoulders. It is cither to be stuffed and roasted, 
or cut in pieces and stewed. 

Lay the sides on the bench and take off the leaf 
lird from the iusides. Cut that into small pieces — 
the smaller the better — and put into the kettle, to 
be rendered out. Then take off the spareribs, cut- 
ting them bare or with a covering of meat, accord- 
ing to circumstances. If in a hotel the spareribs 
will be found very serviceable for the bill of fare. 

Then make two straight cutj across, dividing the 
side into three, one portion being the ham, another 
the shoulder and the middle taking all the meat 
between. 

All the roughness, loose ends and corners should 
be trimmed off, the lean to make sausage, the fat 
for lard; the feet are then to be taken off and the 
meat put in salt pickle. The head of a fat hog is 
either cut up for the lard kettle or salted and 
smoked, eventually to reappear as jowl with spinach. 



1012. Good Country Pork Sausage. 

12 pounds of lean pork. 
6 pounds of fat pork. 
3 ounces of salt. 

1 ounce of good home ground black pepper. 
1 ounce of powdered sage. 
1 quart of water. 
Or, twice as much lean as fat, and seasonings in 
the above proportions at the least for any snaller 
quantity of meat. 

It does very well when you are seasoning sausage 
meat to pat out a cake of it and fry it on the range 
: op and then ask everybody within reach to taste and 
tell you whether it is seasoned enough, but there are 
disadvantages about it; for if the tasters are hungry 
they will often prevaricate so as to obtain another 
section, and if they are not hungry their judgement 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



270 



is not worth a pinch of salt. 
ter to trust the scales. 



On the whole it is bet- 



The butchers are always found willing to trim 
the fat from the pork they sell and from (he pig's 
heads, because a mixture of such fat with minced 
beef makes the ordinary sausage meat of the shops 
in which such a large trade is carried on, that but 
few can keep up a constant supply. With propel 
conveniences for the work a better article and bet- 
ter seasoned can be made in any hotel when there is 
a surplus of similar material. 



1013. To Cure Hams. 

12 hams. 
3 pounds of fine salt. 
8 ounces of saltpetre pounded fine. 
1 pint of molasses. 
Mix these articles together and rub each ham 
wiih the mixture. Pack them skin side downwards 
in a barrel and let remain 4 or 5 days, according to 
the temperature. Turn them over, sprinkle plenti- 
fully with salt and let remain 5 days longer. Turn 
them skin side down again and add to the pickle in 
the barrel enough of brine made strong enough to 
bear an egg (about 5 pounds of salt to 3 gallons of 
water) to just cover them. In six weeks hang up 
the hams and after five days drying smoke them. 



Home cured hams, jowls and shoulders are often 
ost by spoiling through being packed frozen in an 
exposed place The salt never penetrates the frozen 
meat, which remains fresh to spoil when the weather 
turns warm. The cellar and not the smokehouse is 
the place to do the pickling in. If necessary to 
keep hams in summer it is best to wrap them in 
paper and keep in a dark place. 



1014. Cutting up a Ham. 

We must dwell a little on the ham question, for a 
pile of hams being highly concentrated food, trimmed 
already, smoothed, shaved down, pickled, dried, 
smoked, packed and repacked, watched and labored 
with, also concentrates within itself a goodly pile of 
the hotel-keeper's money, and when the cook has to 
go at it with knife and saw, the man who pays the 
bills is very apt to begin a great thinking; and the 
indications are that every one such thinks, or has 
thought until he tried it, that there must be some- 
thing wrong in the hotel cook's way of cutting a 
bam to pieces to slice it, and that it ought to be 
sawn across, slice by slice, from end to end. 

In most restaurants that has to be done for the 
reasou that the customers paying a stated price for 
their dish are apt to look more to its size, weight 
and thickness than to its fineness, and making a 



meal of one or two artioles they expect a sufficiency. 
But a fine dish of ham haB to be cut thiuner than 
can be done with a saw, and smoother, neater and 
handsomer slices are required for the best hotel 
tables than any meat saw is capable of turning out. 
It takes a Sabatier knife with a keen edge to pro- 
duce them and for once style and economy go to- 
gether. If pretty fair progress is made at one time 
in sawing a ham, that is dry, cold and hard, it be- 
comes next to an impossibility to proceed the same 
with a fat, bulky ham in warm weather, and alto 
gether too wasteful. 




To cut up a ham, first saw jff the butt end at the 
horizontal line in the cut. There is a center bone 
that is shown that stops the knife cutting down from 
the shank and there is another bone not shown that 
projects from the ham at a point on the right hand, 
in the line. That bone is the guide where to saw 
through, because hams are not all cut quite alike. 
The section of clear meat on the right that is taken 
out when both cuts are made is the principal portiou 
of the ham from whence those thin, shapely slices 
are cut that make a first-class hotel dish of hnm and 
eggs inimitable by any restaurant sawyer. The 
section on the left contains the leg bone and the 
slices are one-third shorter than the other side and 
can only be cut to about the extent of the dark 
shading in the drawing, the great knuckle bone fil- 
ling out the rest. It is generally best to boil that 
left section and shank and not use it to slice for 
broiling at all. 

The butt end shown in the lower figure is to be 
held on edge and, if of a large ham, cut by the black 



^80 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



marks making two pieces cut clean from the inegu- 
lar shaped bone. The rind haviug been taken ofl' 
these two are to be cut in elice9, and where too small 
cut them not quite through, two slices aitached to- 
gether, open and flatten them wiih the cleaver. 
When the ham is small the slices have to be taken 
the entire size without dividing at the middle line, 
and loosened from the bone below with the knife 
point. 

Very generally it is found that the choice right 
hand sections of the hams are all that the house 
needs for broiled ham while the butt as well as 
shank are keeping up the supply of boiled ham for 
dinner and supper. In other words, don't boil the 
best portion if you can help it, as the ham is of less 
consequence at dinner than at breakfast. 

Hams cut as above make about half their gross 
weight of broiling slices. One weighing 20 pounds 
may be cut into 100 presentable slices; a 14 pound 
ham has yielded G3, weighing 8 pounds — 8 to the 
pound; an 18 pound ham 10 pounds of such broil- 
ing slices, 80 in number. Beside this there is a 
boiling portion of sufficient amount to bring the eat- 
able part up to two-thirds of the gross weight. 

On an average it is found that one-third of every 
ham is waste — bone, shank, rind, thin-shaved out- 
side and superfluous fat; the ham bought at 14 cents 
per pound when placed upon the gridiron has cost 
21 cents. 



The hams that are too large and too fat for fam- 
ily use, at last, most frequently, find a home in the 
hotel storeroom. Every scrap of lean meat and 
even the knuckle bones can be put to some use. but 
all their surplus fat is unmitigated waste, good for 
nothing 



1015. Cutting up Fowls. 

Nothing in this article should be sooonstrued as to 
discourage the good carver from going on making 
six or more orders out of one chicken where such is 
required, but of really first-elass cuts, shapely, com- 
plete and satisfactory, each fowl only yields four, no 
matter how large, and the best course where such 
good cuts are wanted is for the buyer to select 
email fowls and buy them by weight. 

The four good cuts are, 1st, the leg, thigh, (second 
joint) and side bone of the roasted fowl, taken off 
with a horizontal cut all in one piece. The fowl 
having been trussed with the legs in the body before 
cooking thia cut lies in compact shape, but the joint 
should be severed oa the under side before it is 
placed on the dish by a quick cut with the handle 
end of the carving knife When it is a large and 
coarse fowl, the drumstick may be kept back and the 
rest will make a large enough dish; 2nd, one side of 



the breast (a fillet), sliced off all in one, the knife 
cutting through under the wing joint and the wing 
going with the brea9t. This fills the dish hand- 
somely with the clear white meat properly covered 
with the brown outside unbroken. lhe wings 
should be taken off before cooking, all but the meaty 
first joint. This taking one side of the fowl, the 
other side is carved in the same way and the breast 
bones nearly bare and the most of the back bone re- 
main on the carving board. On each side of what 
may be called the small of the back of a fonl there 
's a little piece of meat known to epicures as the oys- 
ter; it belongs to the dark meat portion and shou'd 
be sent in with the side bone. 



It is so nearly true it may almost be taken as a 
rule that wherever the fowls for dinner are carved 
as above the fragments remaining on the carcasses 
will be sufficient for an entree or salad or some 
other side dish for the same number of people the 
next day, making it as economical to send in first- 
class cuts as to chop up both backbones and necks 
to make dishes of, and the same consideration mak- 
ing it worth while to provide an extra fowl or two to 
allow of a surplus Wherever it takes say 16 fowls 
roasted or boiled for dinner for 75 persons (some 
not taking chicken), 4 fowls or about 5 pounds of 
clear chicken meat without bones will make one of 
the favorite entrees for the same number of people, 
and half the number of pounds does for cut chicken 
meat to put in soup. 

These chicken entrees made of 4 fowls are not, of 
course, a satisfactory substitute for the roast re- 
quiring 10, but the greater dish and the lesser, we 
wish to point out, can be had for about the same 
cost with good management. 

It is much the same in cutting up raw fowls as ia 
cooked. The writer once set a young fellow of con- 
siderable experience in cooking, who was on the 
night watch at a railroad house, the job of cutting 
up the fowls for the next day's chicken pie, and 
found next morning that he had the entire three 
dozen chopped into little bits of even size not larger 
than guinea eggs. That was entirely wrong and a 
bud blunder at that plaee, but it had been the right 
way in his former situation. He would perhaps 
have been dismissed for doing otherwise, for first- 
class houses, after all, are the few and not the many; 
but wherever fine cooking has been done and taught 
great attentien has always been paid to the method 
of cutting up fowls, which for first-rate dishes — 
supremes, salmis, fricassees, blanquettes,pies — does 
not vary much from what has been shown in relation 
to the fowls after roasting. 

To make first class dishes of chicken cut them 
raw into four choice portions, the two legs and sec- 
ond joiuts cut off large and rounded, and the two 
fillets with the wing joiuts attached, and the carcass 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



281 



left over. Then chop up (he carcasses eithtr for sec- 
ond-rate stew or pie, or cook them for soup or salad. 



1016. To Truss Fowls to Serve Whole. 

Make no opening at the crop but insert a long 
aud narrow knife and cut (he meat from the breast 
bone inside without cutting through, and when the 
ridge of the bone is reached cut ii.to it a litile so as 
to get away the skin without a rent. When all is 
cut over and the bone loosened twist it free from the 
wing sockets and pull it out. The, object is by re 
moving the high breast bone to give the fowl the 
Bmooih and plump appearanceof a fat goose or duck, 
and make it suitable to be larded ornamentally with 
strips of fat bacon and filled out with stuffing. 



1017- Cutting up a Turtle. 

It is in every way easier to cut up a turtle if it is 
first well scalded before being touched with a knife, 
except to kill it by partly severing the head. If of 
large size lower it by a thin cord attached to the 
hind fins into a stock boiler of boiling water. It 
need not boil after the turtle is immersed as it is not 
to be cooked, but so laige a body sufficiently reduces 
the temperature and Ihe turtle may remain in it fif- 
teen minutes or more. All the black cuticle cin 
then be peeled off the fins, bead and ueck and much 
of the horny coating from the shells. 

Then take off the bottom shell, not dividing the 
two shells at the edges as that cut into shreds some 
of the best of the meat, but by cutting into the bot- 
tom shell at an inch or two from the edge all around 
and then cutting under, bringing away with the 
shell as much of the "chicken meat" or calipee as 
may be without cutting into the entrails. 

Take out the entrails, heart liver and lights, and 
with especial care not to break the gall. These in- 
wards are cleaned and eaten by some people in some 
countries as are likewise pig's chitterlings, and the 
heads and feet of geese and the like, but are always 
thrown away in this country, unless an exception is 
lo be made for the negroes of the Florida Keys 
However, it is necessary for the cook to know that 
these parts are by some considered delicacies and 
cspable of being made into fine entrees. 

Next, lake off the four fins at the sockets. The 
• hick joints afford some of the choicest meat, the 
thin ends also make some fine dishes besides the 
whole being used for the soup. 

Then takeout the dark meat from the back shell 
in as large and long pieces as possible — if wanted to 
make entrees gather up — when the turtle is large 
enough and good enough to possess any — all the green 
fat from about the fin sockets and around the edges 
of the shells and keep it by itself steeping in cold 
water. 

Lastly, cut and saw the shells in pieces conven- 



ient to go in the stock boiler. You now have: The 
"chicken meat" or calipee from the bottom shell, 
easy to cook tender, for the soup, or for white fri- 
case s or stewing in wine etc.: 

The fins, requiring at It ast two hours to stew ten- 
der, for the soup or for eutrees, slewed with wine 
aud rich gravy and with various accessories of 
mushrooms and vegetables: 

The "beef" or dark meat or calipash, from the 
back shell, capable of being cooked in t he same ways 
in the same time as veal for the soup, or to be larded 
with fat bacon and braised as africandeau of turtle; 
the smaller pieces to make stews and ragouts: The 
green fat or "fish" most prized for turtle soup: 

The sheila and head, to be boiled in water till 
their glutinous parts are dissolved, making the tur- 
tle stock. 

Says Fielding: "The turtle, as the alderman of 
Bristol, well learned in ea'ing, knows by much ex- 
perience, besides the delicious calipish and calipee, 
contains many different kinds of food." 

But the dried turtle both from Australia and S >uth 
America, and the canned turtle of our home packers 
now present in all the markets ready for almost in- 
stant use almost put out of mind and out of use the 
nice distinctions of the old time turtle tasters, though 
it is true the packers, Boine of them at lea6t, do still 
advertise both calipash and calipee. 

Turtle soup at the very best is but turtle added to 
rich mock turtle already made of veal and beef as a 
foundation, and the preserved article may easily 
enough answer for the fresh and geuerally does, for 
people who do not claim to be "well learned in eat- 
ing." Dried turtle sells at about e'ghty cents to a 
dollar per pound. It should be steeped in water a 
few hours before cooking in the soup. 



1018. General Management of Small 
Meats. 

Some three or four years back a reporter of one of 
the New York papers — it may as well be staled that 
it was the Graphic — went out like Lord Bateman, 
"stiange countries for to see," and visited the var- 
ious hotel kitchens, we picked up the paper and of 
course perused the article with interest; and what 
does the reader of the "Oven aud Range" suppose 
struck that reporter as the most noteworthy otject 
encountered on that tour of observation in an un- 
known region? It was the orderly arrangemant of 
the cut meats in the trays placed in the refrigerators 
of one of the prominent hotel kitchens — perhaps it 
was the Brevoort, perhaps the Hoffmann House — 
where, fays Ihe reporter, "the cook can go in the 
dark at any time of day or night and pick up any 
kind or cut of meat lhat is called for." 

We call the aitention of youugaud inexperienced 
cooks lo this point in this manner in order to say lo 



282 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



them that notwithstanding the too prevalent idea 
that a hotel kitchen is a place of disorder, dirti 
grease and general disarrangement, it is in fact in 
every hotel where the business is properly under- 
stood and carried on a place of as perfect method 
and mechanical precision as aDy other description 
of workshop or factory whatsoever, and the man 
who cuts and takes care of the meats is as much of a 
skilled mechanic, and as little of a "roustabout" as 
the operativcin any other industrial occupation. In 
a case where the circumstances vary so widely as 
between such great hotels as the Tremont HouBe and 
Grand Pacific of Chicago, that keep two men em- 
ployed doing nothing but cutting meats, and the 
small houses where the one cook can cut all that is 
needed in the half hour before the meal it is of course 
impossible for all to follow the same rule as to times, 
nevertheless there ought to be as much order and 
precision in one place as in the other. 

Whatever may be the convenient time of day, 
whether iu the early morning, at four in the after- 
noon, or in the hour or two after supper let there be 
a strict rule of changing the cut meats into cleao 
trays or pans — bakiug pans are always available and 
are generally used — and a replenishment of the 
stock laid ready in other pans to be commenced on 
when the older lot is gone. 

The largest tray is for beef, for with all its faults 
they love it still. In an average way four-fifths of 
the ptople take meat for breakfast and two-thirds 
or three-fourths take meat for supper — varying with 
the seasons — and of the whole number one-half take 
beefsteak. In other words if you have one hundred 
persons it is safe and expedient to prepare fifty in- 
dividual beefsteaks. The rest of the orders are 
divided among the other meats promiscuously, mut- 
ton being next in demand; veal being run upon oc- 
casionally, when the beef is whispered about as be- 
ing poor for the time being; then ham, breakfast 
bacon, sausage, liver, Bait mackerel, tripe, pork and 
kidneys. The one greater favorite than beef is 
chicken, and that and eggs at the first incoming in 
bpring, or venison or brook trout or other such nov- 
elties and delicacies may materially change the 
amounts of other articles required. More curious 
than useful it is perhaps, but it is observable that 
certain leaders of the style in most hotels can set 
tashions of eating certain articles of diet cooked in 
certain ways that will be followed by a great pro- 
portion of the other guests for the time, but which 
when these leaders leave all the others will abandon. 
Occasionally some very simple article of diet is in 
this manner elevated to the place cf highest impor- 
tance and it becomes uncomfortable for the cook 
who happens to be deficient in that particular. 

As nearly as possible, however, the cook tries lo 
prepare just enough for the meal and no mote. 
Whatever surp'us of raw cut meats there may be 



when the meal is over should be placed on ice till 
the next meal and then changed into clean, dry pans 
with the utmost care to prevent their acquiring a 
sour outside, one of the commonest and most damag- 
ing faults found by the fastidious in connection with 
hotel meats. 



1019. Roast Beef Rare — Blood Gravy. 

1 hat is the way it is ordered, but in the bill of 
fare blood gravy is always softened into dish gravy, 
or in some cases into "au jus" — with natural juice 
or gravy. Certain restaurants make this dish a 
specialty lo such an extent, and their patrons who 
esteem it have so separated themselves from those of 
contrary predilections that hardly two cuts of well- 
done beef are ordered out of fifty. 

To cook beef just to the right point, and not only 
that but to cook it so that the blood gravy will flow 
in a stream as soon as the beef is cut is an effort of 
some skill and great care. It cannot be done if the 
beef is put into a cold range to heat up gradually, 
nor if it is put into a pan of water and scraps to 
simmer and become sodden, nor if crowded among 
other meats to be cooked rather by the steam than 
by dry heat; nor can it be done if the meat is stabbed 
and pricked with the fork continually, letting the 
gravy ooze out at every pore while it is cooking. 
For a large proportion ef your people all the rest of 
the fine dinner will be as nothing at all if the roast 
beef is not medium rare and with plenty of gravy. 
Take the roast as shown at No. 991 and put it, if 
practicable, in a pan by itself, or if it must go in 
with the other meats, put it in when they are half 
done and all hot through and give it space not to 
crowd against any other. In a pan by itself put in 
with ita handful of salt, a ladleful of drippings or fat 
from the top of the stock boiler and set it in the 
range already fairly hot, only about 1J hours before 
dinner, for trimmed roasts seldom need more than 
1 hour or 1 J to roast, rare done; it is hard to beep 
them hot without too much cooking after wards, and 
they are best and juiciest when just done. 

Probably the most perfect roasts of this kind are 
those (already trimmed, ready and hanging in the 
meat house) which you throw hastily into the hot meat 
pan already in the range when a car-load of people 
arrive unexpectedly to dinner and another roast iB 
needed. The sudden heat immediately sets the out- 
side of the meat, which holds the juices within like 
a bladder. You roll it over and over in the hot fat 
and the salted glaze that is on the bottom of ihe pan 
in the effort to hapten the cooking. You calculate 
the weight — each rib weighs about three pounds — 
the length is nothing, only the thickness of the meat 
countE — 3 pounds thickness will cook rare in three- 
quarters of au hour. Then you slice and send in 
I he beef piping hot. Our entrees are all very well 



THE AMERICANS' COOK. 



283 



and we have hundreds of them, but this is the im- 
portant part of the hotel dinner. 

1020 The Blood Gravy. 

Our carving tables are defective in their lack of 
appliances fur keeping the gravy in the natural state 
and a little scheming is necessary. The juice from 
the beef flows into the usual steam-heated receptacle 
and becomes cooked and is no longer the thing (hat 
is called for. Where only one rare roast is used it is 
possible to get along with the carving with the roast 
on a large white platter set on the carving board 
which certainly looks clean and preserves the gravy, 
ad can be set in a warm place occasionally between 
the rush of first and second table. Some set the 
roast on a small carving board on the carving table, 
set a dish under the edge to catch the gravy as it 
runs from the beef and set a board under that dish 
to prevent the heat of the carving table making it 
hot enough to cook. 

1021. Roast Beef Well Done. 

Well done beef can be juicy and the gravy will 
flow, although in smaller quantity, the same as rare 
if managed in the same way. Where the rare roast 
requires 1 hour let the well done remain in th» range 
2 hours. Or, put the thin end of the rib roast in for 
well done and the thick end with the shoulder cap 
left on, both in to roast at one time. The cap will 
preserve the inside portion rare while the other will 
be done through. 

The spoon basting that was an important matter 
with the old-time spit roasting before open fires is 
not so necessary where the meat cau be rolled over 
frequently in the baking pan, answering the same 
purpose. But always catch with the fork some bony 
or projecting end, not to puncture the meat and let 
the juice escape. 



Apropos of natural gravy; Says Brillat Savarin: 
One day I was conducting two ladies to Melun, and 
on reaching Montgeron, after several hours traveling, 
we felt hungry enough to eat an ox. Alas! the inn 
we stopped at, though looking decent enough, had 
nothing but an empty larder. Three stage coaches 
and two post-chaises had been before us, and, like 
the Egyptian locusts, had devoured everything. 

Looking into the kitchen, however, I saw turning 
on the spit a leg of mutten, the very thing wanted. 
The louging glances of the ladies were in vain, for 
it belonged to three Englishmen who had brought it, 
and were now patiently waiting, chatting over a bot- 
tle of champagne. "But, surely," said I, in a mixed 
tone of annoyance and entreaty, "you might fry us 
those eggs in the gravy of this roast; what with that 
aud a oup of coffee with country cream to it we shall 
be resigned to our fate." "Certainly," auswered 
the cook, "the gravy I have a right to dispose of, 



and in two minutes you' 14 have your dish." 

Whilst he was breaking the eggs I went to the 
fireplace, and with my traveling knife made in the 
forbidden gigot a dozen deep wounds, letting every 
drop of thegravy run out Then, watchingthe prep- 
aration of the eggs, lest any thing should spoil my 
plot, I took possession of the dish and carried it to 
our room. We of course made a capital meal, laugh- 
ing loudly every time we thought of ourselves hav- 
ing the best part of the roast, and our friends, the 
English, chewing the remainder. 



1022. Roast Rib Ends of Beef. 

Take the ends of the ribs that are sawn off the rib 
roasts, the pieces marked 33 iu the diagram at No. 
994, and if needed the piece likewise marked 4, and 
put them in to cook early, while brealsfist is still 
going on. Let there be in the baking pan, which 
should be a deep one, a handful of salt, 2 or 3 ladle- 
fuls of sweet fresh drippings from the previous day's 
roasting, and about as much water or soup sock, 
and let simmer in the oven, never getting quite 
without water in the pan till very nearly lime to 
serve dinner. If, as is almost sure to be the case, 
other meats have to be crowded into the same pan 
let these rib ends be at the bottom, they will be so 
much the richer and keep on cooking in the gravy 
till tender and glutinous. At last, the water being 
all evaporated out of the pan, ro'l these rib ends 
over aud over in the natural glaze that remains on 
the bottom and take them out brown and shining be. 
fore they likewise get dry. Serve cuts of 2 or 3 ribs 
with gravy. 



There are certain popular restaurants where the 
above simple but delicious dish of meat sells side by 
side in equal amount with roast turkey at the same 
price per dish, and twenty to one more than any of 
the marinaded, spiced, larded and braised entrees 
of the French cuisine. Iu every hotel the rib ends 
are in demand fully equal to the supply of that cut, 
unless when pushed aside through the greater at- 
traction of the rarer roast chicken or turkey or 
game. As the question of how to use up everything 
that comes from the butcher's is our most trouble- 
some problem the proper way of roasting so as to 
make this meat always attractive deserves attention. 
To nicely glaze the meat wheu done is not always so 
easy as might be supposed, the pan gravy not be- 
ing always boiled down in time, but the Ioug and 
tender cooking is easy and of more consequence, for 
if a person orders that cut one day and fiuds it hard, 
tough and uneatable and a disappointment in his 
dinner, he will hardly call for it the next day though 
it may be never so unctuous aud s ivory. The meat 
mutt have 3 hours slow bakiug. It is naturally too 
fat to eat at first but the long cooking expels the 
most of the fat and dissolves the gristle. 



284 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



It is a common practice, but erroneous, to write 
the rib ends of beef in the bill of fare as short ribs. 
Such they are in one sense, but, properly, the short 
ribs of beef is the choicest roast, marked 11 in the 
diagram, and a person who knows that and expects 
perhaps a slice of rare beef from the best part is apt 
to be disappointed with a dish of the very well done 
rib ends. And those who have learned to call these 
short ribs at one hotel in the same contrary manner 
find themselves served with a slice of beef which 
they did not call for at the next. We need unifor- 
mity of practice^in these particulars more than in 
any others. 



1023. The Flank Roast. 

See Nos. 991 and 992. Cook it in all respects ns 
directed for the rib ends in the preceding article. It 
is not named in the bill of fare but makes a rich, 
unctuous cut and is acceptable to all who call foi 
well-done beef. Slice it across the grain. 



1024. Roast Mutton. 

All the remarks concerning roast beef apply 
equally to mutton, which is sometimes called for 
rare done and is sure to be in a house where there 
are many English people. "Saddle of Southdown 
mutton," so frequently seen in bills of fare has re- 
lation to the fact that there are breeds of sheep 
raised for mutton, of which the Southdown is per- 
haps the favorite, (though (here are also Cotswolds 
and Leicesters and others,) and others for wool. A 
carcass of the latter small kind, the staple supply of 
the markets in some parts of this country, will 
weigh only from 30 to 50 pounds, while a South- 
down will weigh 150 and even 200. A leg of mut- 
ton of the small kind will weigh 4 or 5 pounds, but 
of the large and fat from 10 to 20 pounds. Conse- 
quently no rule as to the time of roasting can be 
given that will be so good as the cook's own experi- 
ence marked by the kitchen clock. 

1025. About Boning and Rolling Meats. 

Many good cooks make a practice of boniDg and 
rolling up all their roast and boiled meats without 
exception, even the rare roast beef being so con 
verted into a beef roll. We think this a decidedly 
objectionable practice, destroying the individuality 
of the meats, if we may so express it, making them 
look all alike and giving grounds for the complaint 
sometimes heard that hotel meats all taste alike. Ii 
is better only for the carver, who simply has to 
slice off the roll of meat from end to end. But such 
a roll being easily penetrated by the fat and liquor 
in the baking pan while cooking is not the same 
thing when done as a solid mass of meat that so far 
from mingling with the others holds its own juices 
ready to burst out at the first puncture. 



The only meat that is better for being rolled is the 
shoulder of mutton of the poor sort previously men- 
tioned; all the other rolls should be in the entreei 
with their appropriate seasonings, an exception be- 
ing made perhaps for the standing hotel dish of veal 
with dressing. 



1026. Roast Lamb — Mint Sauce. 

It cooks in from 30 to 45 minutes. Should be 
fairly done through and no more. Needs to be in a 
pan by itself. 

Having prepared the meat as directed at No. 
1001, wash it in cold water, dredge both sides with 
salt and flour, by pressing both sides down into a 
pan of flour and shake off the surplus. Place it 
with the outside upwards in a baking pau already 
hot and containing a little salt, water and drippings 
When the upper side has cooked so that the flour 
will not wash off begin to baste it and repeat fre- 
quently. If a quarter pound of quite fresh buiter 
can be had melt it and baste the lamb with it at the 
finish. The butter froths upon the meat and gives 
it a fine color. 



1027- Mint Sauce for Roast Lamb. 

The proper sort of green mint not being an arti- 
cle in steady demand is very hard to obtain outside 
of the great cities aud a number of execrable sub- 
stitutes are employed "to fill out the bill of fare." 
There is in fact no proper substitute and the make- 
shifts are calculated to disgust people both with the 
sauce and the lamb. Peppermint, whether green or 
as essence, is not the thing, neither pennyroyal nor 
catnip nor wild mint. The gardeners know the 
proper article that makes the much be-praised Eng- 
lish mint sause for roast lamb as orange mint. We 
often hear the order for lamb "with plenty of mint 
sauce," or with "more of the sauce in a dish,' 
showing that it is liked by many; still it is best when 
carving to pour the sauce under and not over the 
meat on account of the many who are unaccustomed 
to it. When there is no mint serve brown gravy in- 
stead. 

Mint sauce is cold, a mixture of finely chopped 
green mint with sugar and vinegar. To a cupful of 
vinegar add 2 tablespoonfuls of white sugar and 4 of 
mint. Wit h very strong vinegar a lit tie water should 
be mixed in. 

1028. Roast Veal. 

When the veal is young and white proceed with it 
the satu« as directed for lamb. It must always be 
well done but taken out as foon as done and not 
dried out, as if overdone it will part into loose strings 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



285 



when carved. Serve the brown veal gravy mode in 
the same baking pan after the veal is taken out. It 
is usually nf a light reddish brown and a finer gravy 
than that from the beef. 



1029. Roast Veal With Dressing. 

The real purpose of dressing or stuffing is to ini" 
part a flavor of the seasonings to the meat while it 
at the same time absorbs the gravy. This is not ac- 
complished when the dressing is baked in a pan 
separately. 

'I ake a shoulder of veal, cut out the bone, split 
the thickest parts of the meat and cover the thin 
places. Spread over it thinly the bread dressing 
No. 942, or the sage dressing as made for roast 
chicken and turkey, roll up, fasten with skewers and 
roast abi ut 1 £ or 2 hours. 

The dressing as put into the meat is rather dry. 
Whatever iB left to be baked in a pan separately 
should be made quite soft with more water. 



1030. Roast Pork — Apple Sauoe. 

Pork must always be well done, and is slow to 
cook ; an ordinary roast wi'l usually require 2 hours, 
a leg of pork about three hours. Serve a little of 
the brown sauce under the meat as well as the apple 
sauce at one side of the dish. 



1031. 



Apple Sauce for Meats and 
Poultry. 



Pare good, ripe apples and slice them into a 
bright saucepan. Add water enough to come up 
level with the apples and stew with a lid on till done 
— about 30 minutes. While they are stewing throw 
in a little butter. Mash at last with the back of a 
spoon. No sugar. Serve hot. 



The above is the proper apple sauce for pork, 
duck and goose. When sour apples must be used 
of course a little sugar has to be added. But the 
apple sauce being for some unaccountable reason 
extremely liable to be forgotten till the carver calls 
for it nothing is more common than for the stewed 
apples of the supper sauce oi the pie fruit from the 
pastry room with all the sugar and flavorings of 
lemon, cinnamon or nutmeg, to be pressed intoser 
vice as sauce for the roast pork. The noteworthy 
thing about it is that this kind of apple sauce seems 
to give entire satisfaction and no objection is ever 
heard; which only proves that our people generally 
love apple sauce not so much as a sauce to certain 
kinds of meats but as apple sauce for itself alone 
Moral: These considerations should make us toler- 
ant of the seeming errors of others, whioh may be 
better in their effects than our own right doings. 



1032. Roast Sucking Pig, Stuffed. 

C >ver the pig in the oven with a sheet of thick 
paper well greased. This being easily moved for 
baiting and removed for the last crisping gives yu 
command over the heat of the oven and shields the 
ou'side of the pig from becoming too brown before it 
is done through. When the pig is small and the 
skin still moist it can be scored with a sharp knife 
before going in the oven, care being taken to make 
the marks correspond with the slant of the ribs that 
it may be carved in clean cuts. Also sever the 
shoulder and leg joints inside. When the outside 
has become dried it is easier to put the pig in the 
baking pan first on its back and after 15 minutes 
take it out of the oven and score the skin which will 
then be soft. After having been stuffed with the 
following dressing the belly should be sewn up with 
a packing needie and twine. A whole sucking pig 
will require 2 hours careful roastiug. Serve brown 
sauce made in the pan and some of the stuffing in 
the dishes and have apple sauce ready for those who 
call for it. Apple sauce and stuffing should not go 
together. 



1033. Sage and Onion Stuffing. 

2 quarts of finely minced bread crumbs. 
2 tablespoonfuls of minced onion. 
1 heaping tablesponful of powdered sage. 
Same of pepper and salt. 

1 e gg> 

1 cupful of warm water. 

1 cupful of fat from fried sausage or of lard. 

Mix the ingredients all together in a pan, not 
trying to make the dressing too moist as it will al - 
sorb gravy while baking. The egg or eggs should 
be mixed with the warm water before it is poured 
over the bread crumbs. 



1034. Roast Pig With Apple Sauce. 

Pigs weighing from 30 to 40 pounds are more fre- 
quently furnished to hotels than the very small 
ones, and, as they are not sent to table whole are 
considered moro satisfactory. They are too large to 
be cooked whole but are split in halves, carefully 
hacked through the bones inside the skin scored 
across and across in diamond squares, according to 
the directions for sucking pig, and busted and 
crisped light brown in the same manner. Serve 
with the apple sauce No. 1031. To insure its being 
done through thejoints fully 2 hours slow baking 
will be required and perhaps a longer time. 



1035. Roast Ham With Spinach.. 

A favorite and very saleable dish in the restau- 
rants in the winter and spring months, and equally 



2S6 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



1035. Roast Ham -with Spinach. 

A favorite and very saleable dish in the restau- 
rants in the winter and spring months, and equally 
good for the hotel table, the difference being made 
in the size of the dish, which at a restaurant consti- 
tutes a dinner. Usual price per dish 35 cents — in 
first-olass restaurants. 

Scrape and carefully Bhave off the outside of a 
ham and saw off the rank end of the knuckle bone. 
It is an improvement to soak the ham in water 12 
hours before cooking. 

Boil it in the salt meat boiler from 2\ to 3 J hours, 
according to size. Take out, remove the rind, trim 
a little and bake it brown and shining — about .} 
hour. 

Serve like corned beef and cabbage with spinach 
in the dish and a slice of ham on top. 



1036. To Cook Spinach. 

It will probably take a bushel-basketful raw for 
50 persons' orders. There is a winter spinach, har- 
dened by slow growth that may need half an hour to 
cook. The tender spinach of spring growth will 
hardly bear to boil 10 or 15 minutes before it wastes 
away in the water. It shrinks in cooking more 
than any other vegetable. 

Pick it over, cut off thick ends of stems, wash it 
well in abundance of water to free it from grit, put 
it into water that is already boiling and has in it a 
little salt and a little baking soda — say, from the 
size of a bean to hxlf a teaspoonful. A little soda 
keeps the spinach green, too much is an injury. 

When done pour all into a colander and let stand 
to drain itself. Season with salt and a spoonful of 
fat from the salt meat boiler. 



1037. To Cook Radish Greens- 
stitute^for Spinach. 



•a Sub- 



Use the young leaves of radishes to serve with 
both roast ham and boiled jowl when spinach can. 
not be obtained. Proceed as for spinach. Boil half 
an hour, or till the stems are soft. 



1038. About Roasting Hams. 

Hams will absorb moisture if steeped before cook- 
ing, hence the pi'actice where the highest possible 
excellence is aimed at of steeping them in wine with 
spices and herbs and then baking them enveloped in 
a covering of flour-and-water paste to retain the 
flavors. They will also absorb moisture in boiling 
if put on in cold wafer and heated slowly. For this 
reason, although a ham can, of course, be baked like 
any other meat in a pan of water and fat with a 
greased paper over it the common, almost universal 
practice of boiling first, then browning in the oven 
is doubtless the best as well as the least troublesome. 



1039. Roast Ham, Wine Sauce. 

Sometimes we see it in the bills of fare "au vin 
madere," or "sauce amontillado." These are the 
harmless little flourishes like those the good penman 
makes when he writes a card; that do no harm as 
long as they do not make the writing illegible or ob- 
sure the meaning. 

For wine sauce see No. 955, or add wine to brown 
gravy in about equal quantities. 



1040. 



Champagne Sauce for Roast 
Ham. 



The pleasant sharp sauce so commonly served 
with ioast ham and named champagne sauce, bears 
about the same relationship to real champagne that 
champagne cider, and champagne (or white wine) 
vinegar do. Possibly very Bkillful cooks could make 
the same thing with real champagne. This, however, 
seems to be generally esteemed as an accompaniment 
to roast ham, since it is nearly always consumed, which 
is more than can be said of some of the sauces of 
greater fame. 

1 pint ladleful of good brown sauce or gravy. 

\ cupful of vinegar. 

i cupful of sherry or native wine. 

1 large tablespoonful of sugar. 

Mix and serve hot. This it will be seen is of the 
same sour-sweet nature as mint sauce to roast lamb. 
The brown sauce, which is best for the purpose if 
taken from the roast veal pan, should be thick 
enough to bear the reduction of the added liquors. 



If a ham were steeped (marinaded) in wine before 
cooking for some extra occasion the wine remaining 
would afterwards be strained and added to the 
brown sauce and boiled up in it. 



1041. Roast Ham Bread-crumbed. 

Boil and trim a ham as heretofore directed. Mix 
3 cupfuls of the sifted crumbs of dried and crushed 
bread with 1 cupful of grated cheese. Brown the 
ham in the oven only very slightly, take it out and 
press upon it all the bread crumb mixture that can 
be made to stick. Put back in the pan and brown 
it in the oven carefully all over alike, basting the 
dry places with a little clear fat from the pan. The 
cheese mixed with the crumbs acts as a cement for 
the coating, gives a rich color and a good flavor. A 
ham done this way is good either for hot or cold 

1042. Leg of Venison Baked in Paste. 

We have never seen the line above in any hotel 
bill of fare, but if there is really any merit in the 
very old-fashioned method of enveloping the venison 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



287 



in c>at of dough there seems to be flo good reason 
why it should not, and the people informed they 
are partaking of a dish of the old English and old 
Virginia style. The saddle of venison is most ben- 
efited by the covering because the thin parts are 
preserved from drying out. But this is the easier 
for a trial. 

Trim a leg of venison, antelope or mountain sheep 
by sawing off the useless shank and shaving off the 
hard and black outside, or at least the worst parts, 
and wash the rest. Dry it and brush over with a 
litt'e butter to keep the paste from sticking to the 
meat. 

Mix 2 pounds of flour into a very soft paste with 
about 2 cupfuls of cold water and nothing else. 
Spread or roll it out, cover up the meat in it and 
close all holes 

Put it in a baking pan that it will nearly fill and 
a liitle water to keep the corners from burning, 

A joint that would take an hour and a quarter to 
roast just slightly rare done without the paste will 
take about half an hour longer with it. Keep the 
paste from burn'mg in the range by moistening the 
outside with water occasionally. 

When the meat is nearly done take it out of the 
taste and brown it quickly in another pan in a hot 
oven without allowing it to dry out. Serve with 
currant jelly and the natural gravy. 



The objection in hotel work to the paste covering 
is not that it is any particular trouble or at all diffi- 
cult, but the apparent waste of eatables. 

The value of the two pounds of Hour is at most 10 
cents for each joint, but as the baked crust is thrown 
away it goes to swell the always enormous waBte, 
and somebody is tolerably certain to put a veto on 
the method. 

By the old spit roasting it was probably found 
that half an inch depth of the already dry venison 
became utterly dried like a crust before the inside 
was done, and the paste resorted to as a preventa- 
tive. 



1043. Roast Venison. 

Trim and wash the meat, put it in to bake in a 
baking pan that contains a handful of salt, a little 
water or soup stock and as much drippings or fat 
from the top of the stock boiler. Never let the pan 
be quite devoid of water while the venison is in, and 
there will never be any dry crust. Roll the meat 
over or baste frequently, but take care never to stick 
a fork in it. A leg of ordinary size will be done in 
an hour to an hour and a half. It should be slightly 
rare around the bone when cut. A saddle or loin 
will cook in three-quarters of an hour. 

Serve either with fruit jelly and natural gravy — 
which will, of course, be scarcely a teaspoonful to 
moisten each slice — or with game sauco made by 



mixing currant or other fruit je'ly with brown sauce, 
or with brown sauce alone, according to circum- 
stances. The expense of the currant jelly accom- 
paniment to venison is in many places found more 
onerous than the expense of the meat itself. 

Venison and all the similar wi'd meats must be 
roasted in pans apart from the butcher's meats. They 
impart strong flavors aud also make the pan gravy 
very dark. The brown sauce or gravy made in the 
venison pan often is useful in small quantities to 
give color to the other from the beef and pork. 



1044. Hotel Turkey and Chicken. 

Hotel poultry is always bought in lots at advanta- 
geous times, with one eye open to the quality and 
another eye perhaps a little wider open to the 
price. We remember a time back in a Missouri 
town when it was an "Uucle Mose," who wore a 
Number 13 shoe, that did the buying fir the City 
Hotel and always bought the chickens at $1, $1.25 or 
$1.50 per dozen, or did not buy at all, although the 
retail market price at the same time might be $3. 

He circulated a little amongst the market wagons, 
posted himself as to their contents, and got himself 
known by sight, and then waited for the bell that 
closed the market. 

"Got aheap o' stuff left over, aint yer?" 

"Oh, no, not much," says the farmer, turning 
around briskly, and trying to appear oheerful, as if 
everything was lovely. 

"No, it wouldn't be much to me 'cause I runs a 
big hotel, and what you got there wouldn't be no 
more than just nothing to us," says Mose, starting 
to go away, "but it's a right smart for a man like 
you that's come so far to get left on his hands. I'd 
like to help you out and let you go home, if we 
didn't have so many in our coop now. I'll tell you 
what I can do — I'll give you a dollar a dozen and 
clean out the whole lot." 

Then when the farmer looked horrified at the very 
idea: 

"Well I don't care for no two bits, if that makes 
a difference to you. I'll give a dollar and a quarter 
a dozen and take all the coops you got on bofe wa- 
gons." 

And it generally ended with: 

''Now you better let me have 'em. The market 
bell's done rung. You can't sell 'em anywheres in 
town, the merchants won't let you. You got to lay 
over till to-morrow, and there's your expenses; and 
some of the chickens will die, and there's a powerful 
sight of chickens coming in on the road every hour 
a' most, and maybe in the mornin' you can't sell a 
one. You better take it, and there's your money in 
gold right there in my hand— all right, drive right 
up to the back door in the alley — bofe wagons, you 
recolleoks." 



288 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



Then he would shout across the Btreet: 

"I wants you one-hoss hotel niggars so stay away 

from this man. Ole Uncle Mose done bought all dem 

chickens; you hear meJ" 



1045. Sorting Mixed Lots. 

The old and mature turkeys may be known in a 
dresstd lot by their larger size, by their general 
freedom from pin feathers and smooth skin, by their 
wattles, and by the unbending firmness of the end 
of the breast bone; also, generally, by their being 
fat, which immature turkeys never are. 

The choioe turkeys that the markets are culled for 
by dealers who supply high-priced family stores are 
the fat hen turkeys of about a year or a year and a 
half old. They are clean lookingas to feathers, of de- 
sirable medium size, and will do to roast without pre- 
vious boiling, as the old and very large ones will not. 
Young turkeys are the better the nearer they are to 
maturity. They are generally full of either pin 
feathers, or the marks of them, are thin and scrawny, 
with high bones and little meat. They have, 
however, the one great requisite of tenderness, and 
are bought exclusively by some restaurant keepers 
because, being light, a half of the breast with the 
bone in it, or a correspondingly large appearing cut 
of the dark meat can be served to each dish, which 
has a more liberal appearance than a slice and a 
single joint from a large turkey. 



1046. Roast Turkey, Cranberry Sbuco. 

Take the the large turkeys such as are known to 
be old and not suitable for straight roasting — it will 
take 25 pounds raw weight for 50 persons, or 45 
pounds for 100, varying according to tbe rarity of 
the dish and the method of carving — singe, wash, 
and truss with the legs in the body. Boil them in 
the Btock boiler, in the soup stook which may have 
vegetables in it. and a little salt, but no spice flavors 
nor bay leaf for about three hours, or til! tender. 
They can be tried by lifting on a fork and pulling 
the wings, which will part from the body when 
done, or by raising the meat of the drumstick. Then 
take them out on a baking pan. 

Your turkeys are now good eating, hardly to be 
improved by roasting, and all the harm thai is done 
to them, the deterioration into dryness, stringiness 
and insipidity that brings hotel turkey into disre- 
pute takes place afterwards by ruinous dry baking 
iu the oven. They are already cooked, and you can 
let them wait till there is room and the range is hot. 
Dust them lightly wi'h flour. Pour enough water 
or stock into the pan to keep it from burning, and 
some of the fit from the top of the Btock boiler, and 
brown them off quickly. If fresh butter is cheap 
enough baste them with it and the turkeys will soon 
be of a rich deep brown, will cut moist, compact and 
ender without parting into only dry strings. 



The common mistake in cooking old turkeys is in 
boiling them half done and thinking to finish the 
cooking iu the oven. They dry out. 

Serve with cranberry sauce on one side of the 
dish and a little brown sauce made with the residue 
of the butter in the turkey pan poured under. 

Turkey stuffing and cranberry sauce ought not to 
go together. It makes too much of an incongruous 
mixture in one dish, and, as the dressing needs 
gravy as well, it takes too much time in the carv- 
ing. 



1047- Cranberry Sauce for Turkey. 

2 quarts of cranberries. 
12 ounces of sugar. 

1 small cupful of water. 
Wash and pick over the cranberries, put them in- 
to a bright kettle with the water, spread the sugar 
on top, shut ij the steam and cook at the back of 
the range where they will not scoroh at the bot. 
torn. When done, stir up to break the berries- 
Serve warm. 



1048. 



Cranberry Jelly for Roast Tur- 
key. 

Cranberry jelly for wild turkey and game and 
co'.d dishes and pastry is easily obtained by draio- 
iug off the syrup from well cooked cranberries be- 
fore they are stirred or mashed and letting it get 
cold. The berries then stirred up with a little more 
sugar make equally good cranberry sauce. 

1049. Roast Turkey, Stuffed. 

Take fat hen turkeys or young but full grown 
gobblers, singe, and pick over and wae-h them. 
Stuff them with the bread dreesing No. 912, or the 
same seasoned with sage, and twice the quantity, 
and roast for two hours, according to the general di- 
rections for roasting. 

It is a good sign that a turkey is done when little 
jets of steam burst out of the breaBt and fleshy 
parts. 

Young turkeys will cook in about an hour plain, 
orau hour and a half when stuffed. 



1050. Roast Turkey, Brown Oyster 
Sauce. 

Roast young turkeys not stuffed, about an hour, 
or till just done. Serve with the brown oyster 
sauce, No. 854. 



1051. Roast Turkey, Stuffed with Oys- 
ters. 

Read No. 855. Twice the quantity of oyster 
dressing will likely be required for turkey for 50. 
Serve the dressing with the turkey in the usual 
manner, and a little brown sauce made iu the tur- 
key pan. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



289 



1062. Roast Turkey, Stuffed with 
Chestnuts 

There are two or more ways commonly practiced. 
One is to mix the whole chestnuts with enough of 
the common dressing to keep them together, and fill 
the turkey with the mixture ; another is to mince 
the chestnuts very fine after boiling them tender, 
season well with butter or part suet, and salt and 
pepper, and stuff the turkey with the preparation, 
which results in a dish scarcely distinguishable from 
turkey stuffed with mashed sweet potatoes — a way 
that is really very good, but takes too many chest- 
nuts. 

For the first of the above ways make for two tur- 
keys the veal stuffing No. 956, in twice the quantity, 
and boil about 80 or lOOof the large foreign chestnuts 
much as you would potatoes, in salted water, then 
peel and scrape them off the inner skin. Mix 
them with the veal forcemeat and use to stuff the 
turkeys. 



Sausage meat can be used instead of the veal force- 
meat. Also, turkeys are stuffed with sausage meat 
mixed with one-third as much fine bread crumbs 
added dry. There is a style called a la ehipolata 
that means with little sausages, made by twisting 
link sausage into short lengths like chestnuts in size. 
These are used like whole chestnuts in stuffing, and 
also in the sauce or gravy. 



1053. Chestnut Sauce for Turkey. 

Boil chestnuts tender, peel, cut them in halves 
and mix them with the brown sauce made in the 
turkey pan. 



1054. Puree of Chestnuts for Roast 
Turkey. 

A puree is a pulp of meat, vegetables or fruits 
pressed through a seive. 

Boil 50 large chestnuts for half an hour, peel 
them, scrape off the furry inner skin, wash free 
from dark specks, then boil them in a little soup 
stock one-half hour longer. Mash them like pota- 
toes, season with salt, thin down to the consistency 
of a thick sauce with hot milk and a little butter, 
and stir it through a gravy strainer. Best sauce 
(ox turkey or chicken stuffed with sausage. 



1055. 



Wild Turkey -with Cranberry 
Jelly. 



We can dispense with the somewhat expensive 
covering of thin slices of fat salt pork or bacon for 
domestic turkeys, but not very well when a wild 
turkey is to be roasted. The most considerable part 
of it is the solid dark meat of the breast. Cover 
that part, at least, with very thin bands of fat salt 
pork, tied on, cover the whole upper part of the tur- 



key with a moveable sheet of thick paper well 
greased, and roast the turkey in the oven for nearly 
or quite 2 hours. Wild turkeys sometimes weigh as 
high as 25 pounds each, and even more, and in such 
cases need long cooking in a moderate oven with 
very frequent basting. Let the water dry out of 
the pan at last, increase the heat, take of the paper 
and slices of pork and brown the outside quickly. 

Wild turkeys shonld not be stuffed as long as 
they are a rarity in any place and there is a curi- 
osity to taste the natural flavor unalloyed with 
herbs and seasonings. 

Serve cranberry jelly No. 1048 cold, or currant 
jelly in the dish and a little brown sauce poured 
under the meat. 



"The flesh of the wild turkey has more cofor and 
flavor than that of the domestic turkey. M. Bose 
tells me that he has shot some in Carolina much 
finer than those we have in Europe, and he advises 
all rearers of turkeys to give them as much liberty 
as possible, to take them out in the fields and even 
the woods, in order to heighten their flavor and 
bring them nearer the primitive species." — Gas- 
tronomy. 



"There are three places in France rivals for the 
honor of furnishing the best poultry: Caux, Mans 
and Bresse As to Capons, there is some doubt in 
deciding; and that which a man has his fork in 
must be the best. But as to chickens, the finest are 
those from Bre3se, which are as round as an apple. 
It is a great pity they are so are in Paris where 
they only arrive when sent with a present of game." 
— Ibid. 

1056. Roast Capon. 

This, so often present by name in the hotel bill of 
fare, there is no reason to believe is seldom, if ever, 
outside of New York, present in reality. 

A capon is a young male chicken gelded, by mak- 
ing an opening in its side and then sewing it up 
again, in order to make it fatten. So that although 
an immature turkey is never fat, an immature fowl, 
if caponized, may be made extremely fat if put 
through a course of cramming. These fat, young 
fowls are first choice as they can be roasted in the 
same time as a chicken and have twice the substance. 



1057- Roast Spring Chickens. 

Cook them only about half an hour in a hot oven 
with drippings and salt in the pan and very little 
water — barely enough to keep the pan from burn- 
ing. They are better for being rather crowded to- 
gether than in a pan too large. Tumble them over 
several times to get them light brown all over with- 
out drying out. A final basting with good butter Is 
an improvement both to the chickens and the gravy 
that is to be made in the pan, but the most of the 



290 



THE AMERICAN OOOK. 



drippings should be ladled out first. Serve 
halves or quarters of the small chickens cut through 
the bones. 



1058. Boast Fowl, Brown Celery 
Sauce. 

All the remarks concerning the skillful cooking 
of old turkeys to make them as good as the young at 
No. 1046 apply equally to fowls. There is no dif- 
ference in the time required for cooking. Some 
fowls will not be tender in less than 5 hours boiling, 
then they should be browned in the oven a9 quickly 
as possible. 



1059. Brown Celery Sauce. 

Take the outside stalks of celery, white, tender 
and good, but such as are left in the celery glasses 
when the people have picked out all the hearts, scrape 
off the back of each stalk, laid on the table, to re 
move coarse fibres and make it look smooth. Cut 
into bits about like the halves of chestnuts in ches"- 
nut sauce; boil them in salted water or stock till 
tender— 20 or 30 minutes. Drain and put the 
pieces into the chicken or turkey gravy, and let 
simmer awhile that the whole may be mildly fla- 
vored. 



1060. 



Bread Dressing for Chicken and 
Turkey. 



"Chicken with plenty of dressing," and "some 
more of the dressing on the side," are some of the 
orders that come and make hotel cooks think the 
dressing or stuffing is something worth giving at- 
tention to, to make it good. It can be made so that 
it is actually better eating than the fowl itself, being 
savory and exciting the appetite. The sense of hav. 
ing dressing to fowls at all lies in the intention that 
the seasonings shall be imparted to the meat in 
cooking and the juices of the meat be at the same 
time absorbed by the stuffing. It should not, there- 
fore, be made so wet that no more moisture can be 
absorbed, nor yet be crammed in solid. 

The hasty way, when time is short, but not the 
best, is to shave off all dark crust from the rolls or 
slices of bread and throw them into a large tin pan. 
Turn on plenty of cold water, (hot water will not do 
as the bread can never be squeezed dry after) and 
after 5 minutes soaking turn into the large colander, 
let drain, and then press dry with a plate, and the 
colander tipped on one side. After that, season ac- 
cording to the proportions of the following receipt. 

But this is not a difficult method, and if it takes 
a little longer cutting the bread, is better for every- 
thing except for baking separately in a pan. 

4 pounds of bread (30 to 40 cold rolls). 

2 heaping teaspoonfuls of powdered sage. 

Same of mixed pepper and salt. 



1 J pints of warm water — 3 cupfulj. 

1 pint of the fat from fried saus3ge, or lard, or butter. 

2 eggs, or 4 yolks (not essential.) 

Cut the bread in dice all free from dark crust, put 
in a large pan, add the sage and salt and good black 
pepper enough to season well. Mix the warm sau- 
sage fat, water and eggs (if afforded) together and 
pour over the bread. Stir up well but do not try to 
mash it to paste. 

Finely chopped suet answers well in the above 
instead of other shortening, and often is the means 
of saving its weight of butter. More water will be 
needed when suet is sued. 

1061. Roast Chicken, Stuffed. 



The best fowls for roasting are young, fat hens 
about a year old, as they can be roasted as they 
ought to be without previous boiling. 

Singe, draw, wash thoroughly, and stuff with'the 
bread dressing of the preceding receipt. Truss 
the legs in the bodies. Roast in the oven about 1 .', 
hours. 



1062. Bread Sauce, Brown. 

This made in the pan the fowls are roasted in, 
savory, rich and liked by everybody, has no resem- 
blance to the English bread sauce that is sometimes 
heard of but never wanted. English bread sauce is 
a white puree, made by boiling milk with a cut up 
onion in it and putting in white bread orumbs till 
it makes a sort of mush, seasoned with butter, salt 
and white pepper. 

Brown bread sauce oan only be made good in the 
chicken or turkey pan by great care to provent the 
stuffing, that either has escaped from the roasting 
f >wls or is mixed in the gravy foi the purpose after 
they have been taken out, from burning on the bot- 
tom and getting a smoky taste like burnt espagnole 
while it is bi owning. 

Set the pan (after the chickens or turkeys have 
been taken out) on the upper shelf of the range, 
should the bottom be too hot, until the bread crumbs 
(stuffing) in it have become brown, the water that 
was in the pan has all dried out, and the fat re- 
maining is quite clear and can all be poured off al- 
most to the last drop, the gravy and bread all stick- 
ing to the bottom. 

The grease being got rid of pour a quart dipperful 
of hot water or stock into the pan and stir up the 
contents and let boil without scorching for a few 
minutes, then strain it into a saucepan by rubbing 
through a gravy strainer with the back of a spoon. 
If not thiok enough it can be thickened in the sauce- 
pan while boiling at the side of the range. It is al- 
ready seasoned with the salt that is invariably put 
into every pan that meat is roasted in, and the 
dressing. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



291 



1063 Spring Chicken, Maryland Style. 

Those can be done in a skillet or frying pan over 
the fire, as they doubtless generally are for a family 
pirty, yet we have always found in southern hotels 
that even "Old Aunty" herself was glad to slide the 
big pan contaiuiug three or four dozen into the 
range and be done with them all at once. And they 
seem just as good. The boarders at such hotels hav- 
ing chicken cooked this way for breakfast almost 
unfailingly during two-thirds of the year and for a 
period in the fall for supper likewise, learn a good 
many things about chickeus thit others in less fa- 
vored localities never become poultrywise in. They 
learn the differences of quality in the different 
breeds of chickens, how, when all are cooked pre- 
cisely alike, some kinds are white-fleshed, succulent, 
juicy and even fat, while others are little better 
eating than so much basswood — such differences as 
exist between Dorkings and Shangais. 

Singe and pick the chickens free from pin feath- 
ers. Instead of the usual posterior cut draw the 
chickens by splitting down the back bone and 
opening them. Cut off the neck and vent and then 
divide in halves through the breast bone. Wash 
them thoroughly, then lay out on board or table, 
dredge with salt and good home ground black pep- 
per, then dip each piece into a pan of flour, flouring 
it on both sides. 

Cover the bottom of the baking pan with slices of 
dry salt porl», not smoked, cut very thin that it may 
not take much in weight, and bake light colored to 
extract the fat. 

Take out the slices and fill the pan with the chick- 
ens laid close together, the skin side down. Bake 
in a hot oven about & hour, basting with the fat 
from the corner of the pan (it almost always 
needs some fresh butter added) and when the upper 
side is light brown turn the pieces over and brown 
the o'her side — raised on to the shelf of the oveu if 
necessary, as the pan shou'd not be allowed to get 
brown. 

Take out the chickens, pour a dipperful of milk 
into the pan and let boil up with the gravy und 
flour that is on the bottom and when done strain it. 
Serve a slice of the crisp pork on each piece of chick- 
en and gravy in the dish. 



1064 Domestic Goose and Duck. 

One of Chicago's best known and most successful 
restaurateurs, Mr. Charles W. Baldwin, who is one 
of the oldest and best buyers in the market says, 
jestingly, about choosing geese: "Try whether you 
can push the end of your finger through the skin; 
pull the wing and see whether it will crack at if 
pulling off; try the l p gs try the breast bone, then 
shut your eyes and guess at it and you will know no 
more about its age than you did before," which is 
equivalent to saying there is no way of knowing an 



old goose from a young one after it is dressed. An 
old goose is a very undesirable article of food, but 
young or "green" geese can often be obtained direct 
from the firms 

If stuffed with bread the proper kind is the same 
as for sucking pig, No. 1033. 

Besides that all the stuffings used for turkeys are 
suitable, the oyster dressing, No. 856, being gener- 
ally esteemed. 

Not to go over the same ground again, those who, 
having a goose of doubtful age would make it good, 
should take the hint from the directions for roasting 
rib ends of beef at No. 1022. 



1065. Boast Domestic Duck, Apple 
Sauce. 

The same as domestic goose preceding. Apple 
sauce is served both with goose and duck. See No. 
1031. 



1066. Young Ducks, with Green Peas. 

An early summer luxury. Roast young ducks like 
spring chickens, not over thirty minutes, without 
stuffing. Serve carved in halves with young greet: 
peas in gravy. 



1067. Wild Geese and Brants. 

The writer of these articles might have been in- 
clined to ignore the process called braising — of 
which more will have to be said when we come to 
the entrees — as of little consequence in a system of 
cooking in which the meats are baked in gravy in a 
closed range had it not been for one bit of experi- 
ence. Every one, almost, knows how wiry, tough, 
dark, dry, scraggy, bony.hard, and generally unsat- 
isfactory wild geese and brauts are, notwithstand- 
ing the pride the hunters feel in capturing such 
large game, at least after the ordinary method of 
roasting. 

This was an old fashioned kitchen in the south- 
west in a region full of reedy lakes and swamps 
where wild fowl abounded and, whether or no, 
these wiry wild geese were oontinually piled in up- 
on us to be made the best of. And there was noth. 
ing that gave as poor returns for the trouble or that 
one could take as little interest in carving; they 
were all carcass and no meat worth calling a good 
cut, the india rubber wings being condemned before 
hand and the legs barely tried, being mostly thrown 
away. 

There was in the kitchen one large iron pot made 
of metal half an inch thick, that had a lid made to 
screw on. When closed it was almost as steam- 
tight as the screwed on lid of a modern glass fruit 
jar, and it had a safety valve like the oork of a bot- 
tle, that rose and let off steam when the inside 
pressure becime too great. 



292 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



I made this kettle|and the intractable wild geese 
and brants acquainted with each other. The bottom 
was covered with slices of salt pork. One or two 
nions were thrown in, a dozen cloves and some 
bruised peppercorns, and salt. Then, as the wild 
geese were not stuffed or otherwise occupied, in or- 
der to economize the space, the meameet small wild 
ducks in the pile were sometimes crammed into the 
biggest geese, and the kettle was filled to its full ca- 
pacity. A little water or soup stock and fat from 
the top was then added, the lid Bcrewed on and the 
cooking began. 

She would blow off steam sometimes like any other 
safety valve boiler — otherwise there would have 
been an explosion. 

As most people know, water when once boiling 
never gets any hotter in an open vessel, but the 
added heot changes it to steam which goes off. But 
the steam if shut in can be made so hot that the 
pipes that confine it will brown a loaf of bread 
placed within a coil of them. Thus the wild geese 
with the steam shut in were subjected to a roasting 
degree of heat without the roasting dryness At the 
end of two hours they were as tender as young 
chickens, and fine and full flavored. The grease 
was then Bkimmed from (he liquor remaining, and 
gravy made in the kettle by adding water and 
thickening and straining it. Wild goose cooked 
this way soon became "all the rage." In keeping 
hot in the oven the outside would dry and glaze as 
if roasted, but in fact nobody oared whether roasted 
or braised, they merely called for more of that 
wild goose and the traveling man came again an- 
other day. 

That particular pattern of iron kettle I have never 
met wi'h nor been able to buy since, but imitate th e 
mothod as closely as possible with the largest size 
of iron pots, with gr ; ased paper covers and tight 
fitting lids and weights on top. 



1068. Roast "Wild Goose, Giblet Sauce 

The method described in the foregoing article be- 
ing essentially oue of braising, we give here the 
details for the satisfactory roaBting of wild geese. 

It is well to remember that scalding does no good 
in removing the feathers, they have to be plucked 
dry, or paitly plucked, then singed with lighted 
paper, and then picked over, singed again, and 
washed. 

Take off the wings all but the first joints — the 
bony pinions have nothing on them. Draw the 
geese, and save the gizzards and hearts, but not the 
liverB. Also keep the necks, cut off close to the 
body, to make the gravy. Cut off the lower part of 
the legs. Then wash the geese thoroughly. 

Make the deepest baking pan in the kitchen hot 
beforehand, with salt, water and drippings in it- 
crowd in the geese so that they will lie close to- 
gether, dredge pepper over, lay a dozen or more 



slices of fat salt pork over the top and slide the pan 
into a hot oven. Where salt pork cannot be af- 
forded take the suet out of a loin of beef and beat it 
out to a sheet. 

Let this cooking commence three hours before 
dinner, and when the pork slices are browned and 
shrunken cover the geese with a sheet of thick paper 
well greased. Baste frequently. 

At the end of about two and a half hours the wa- 
ter should be all gone, only fat and glaze remaining; 
and the geese rolled over two or three times — -with- 
out a fork ever being stuck into them, however — 
should be light brown and well glazed Then take 
them out before they become dry and hard. 



1069. Giblet Sauoe. 

Boil the gizzards, hearts and nesks of geese, ducks 
or fowls in a saucepan of soup stock or water for 
three hours. Add an onion and some peppercorns 
while they are cooking, but no salt. When tender, 
strain off the liquor into another vessel and cut up 
the gizzards, etc., into dice shaped pieces. 

When the clear grease has been all poured eff 
from the pan the geese are roasted in put in the 
giblet liquor instead and let it boil up and dissolve 
and mingle with the glaze on the pan. Strain off 
the gravy thus made and put into it the cut up gib. 
lets. 



1070. Boast Wild Goose, Stuffed. 

For stuffing, use the sage and onion dressing No. 
1033. In other respects proceed as directed in the 
preceding article. If, as is most likely, the roasting 
pan should be so coated with the dressing from the 
geese as to be unsuitable to make sauce in, mix 
the cut giblets with the brown sauce of the other 
meats. 

It takes about eight wild geese for dinner for fifty 
persons choosing from a bill of fare; or 12 mallard 
ducks or 18 small wild ducks, depending somewhat 
on the method of carving and on what other attrac- 
tions in poultry and meats are offered. 



1071. "Wild Ducks. 

Some South Water street game dealers who have 
felt interest enough in it to make note of the mat. 
ter, say that about or nearly 100 different varieties 
of wild ducks come to their hands in the course of 
trade. One of them — aMr.Maltman, I believe — 
has the proof of the statement to show in a stuffed 
specimen of each variety which he has preserved. 
Nine-tenths of these, however, are scarce and sel- 
dom met with, the remainder comprise the familiar 
varieties that are plentiful in the market and known 
to all. The Mallard, largest and most abundant, 
is fortunately one of the best as well, being a half 
domesticated frequenter of the cornfields and other 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



1:93 



such cultivated feeding places. The common price 
ranges from $2 to $3 per d* zen. 

The highest priced is (he Canvas back, which 
bears a factitious value because of its reputation for 
a certain fine flavor said to be derived from feeding 
on waterceltry on the eastern coasts; but being fjund 
inallpartsof the West, even to the Rocky mountain?, 
is still always in demand for shipment to the east- 
ern markets, the price being usually about $6 per 
dozen. The duck that is equal to the western Cin- 
vas back is the Red head. The Teals, fattest and 
tenderest and smallest, are in like manner very 
nearly equalled in quality by the Butter balls. 
Price, $1 to §2_per dozen. 

The above mentioned are the kinds for the buyer 
to choose for good qualities. Then come a mixed 
company of Pin tails, Spoon bills, Divers, Fish ducks 
and others that are in the same category of hard cas- 
es with the brants and wild geese, but have the re- 
deeming quality of being low priced. 



1072. Roast Canvas back and Red 
Head. 

These ducks are not to be stuffed; their excel- 
lence consists in their own natural flavor; but pepper 
and salt them inside and out. They are not to be 
wished, but being picked over, singed, and drawn 
carefully, are well wiped both inside and outside 
with a cloth. 

Put them into a pan already hot in a hot oven — 
the pan only just large enough to hold the duoke, 
having the usual moistening of water and stock 
boiler fat or sweet lard in small amount, and a 
little salt. Roast them only from 20 to 30 min- 
utes. 

They are said to be unfit for the table if cooked 
five minutes too long. 

They are the good carver's delight, each duck 
making only two dishes. With the carving fork 
holding the breast bone take off the meat of the 
entire side with both leg and wing, skillfully sepa- 
rating them from the carcass at the joints. No 
gravy required, but the natural gravy that flows 
from the ducks preserved and served with them the 
same as with roast beef. 

They should be carved on a warm dish. 

Seive fried potato cakes or croquettes or fried 
hominy cakes with canvas bicks in Maryland style. 
For the French way, "au cresson," placeabunoh 
or border of water cress, fresh but quite free from 
water, in the dish. 

1073. Roast Mallard Duck 

Being naturally tender, it will cook in 25 or 30 
minutes, if not stuffed. 

It is generally an improvement to stuff it the 
same as wild goose or turkey, and roast it an hour. 
A duck will make four dishes with dressing, cut in 
quarters through the bones 



1074. Roast Teal and Butter ball. 

These are commonly kept for broiling. Roast 
them in 20 minutes without sluffiog. Serve halves 
cut down through the bones and good brown gravy 
poured under. 



1075. Common Wild Ducks. 

May be made good in the ways directed for wild 
geese, by slow baking. From 1 to 2 hours cooking 
is necessary. They can be used to good advantage 
in other ways besides roasting. 



Articles such as small birds not found in this list 
of roasts will be found in place in the book of en- 
trees. 



1076. Boiled Ribs of Beef, with Horse- 
radish. 

Boil the same cuts as directed for roast rib ends 
of beef in the soup stock for 3 hours. Serve cuts 2 
or 3 ribs long with a tablespoonful of grated horse- 
radish in the dish. Less than half as many orders 
as of the roasted ribs are needed to be cooked this 
way. 



1077. Boiled Salt Beef, with Veget- 
ables. 

The English and French make a more decided 
distinction between plain salted beef and oorned 
beef than we do. 

It would, perhaps, be difficult to gain any appre- 
ciation for the merits of plain salt beef at the Amer- 
ican hotel table, and yet there are public eating 
houses, and many of them in London, where huge 
rounds of beef plainly salted and plainly boiled, 
with the gravy running out abundanly, are cut up 
every day. The popular accompaniment is boiled 
carrots; sometimes turnips, stewed peas, Brussels 
sprouts, (a species of small cabbage that grows in 
bunches on the stem) or dumplings. 

Put the flank roasting pieoe, or the tough side of 
the round, in a jar with some salt and rub it with 
salt every day for a week. Then wash it and boil 
3 or 4 hours. 



The American equivalent and substitute for the 
foregoing is the universal corned beef and cabbage. 
The meats denominated a Vecarlate in the English- 
Fresh cook books are corned meats — round of beef 
a Vecarlate, scarlet or reddened beef. Tongue the 
same way. And chicken or other meats that are 
not corned when a Vecarlate are ornamented, 
larded or mixed with corned meats, such as red ton- 
gue. 



294 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



1078. Corned Beef and Cabbage. 

This is a dish almost as permanent in ihe hotel 
bill of fare as the roast beef itself, and almost as 
necessary. 

The whole subject of corned beef — making ihe 
brine or pickle,general management and cooking-has 
been fully treated of already at N 0.792 and succeeding 
articles. Were any tender cuts of meat ever corned 
in the hotel econoniization of material two or thiee 
hours' boiling might be as good as the five hours' 
there recommended. But the first requisite to 
making any dish of meat popular is to have it sufE- 
cienily tender. The best brisket pieces for corning 
are (he gristliet, and when it is a matter of choice 
betwixt starting the cooking of the corned beef be- 
fore the busy time of breakfast begins or waiting 
till the opportunily arrives afteiwards, which will 
probably be not till 10 o'clock, it is always advisa- 
ble to take the early hour. 



1079. To Boil Cabbage. 

Cut one large head or two email ones, if to go 
with corned beef alone, or twice as much if to serve 
as a vegetable besides, into quarters, and cut away 
the thick stem. Let remain in a pan of cold water 
till wanted. 

Two hours before dinner put it into a pot of water 
that is already boiling and has a little salt and a 
pinch of baking soda in it. Young summer cabbage 
will cook in from 30 minutes to 1 hour, solid winter 
cabbage from 1 to 2 hours. 

It does not follow because a little soda in the wa- 
ter is good that more must be better. Use, say, 
half a teaspoonful. It keeps the leaves of summer 
cabbage green and softens winter cabbage so that it 
cooks in half the time required without soda. 

When nearly done, drain off the cabbage in a col- 
ander, fill up with liquor from the corned beef 
boiler, or with part water, if that is too salt, and boil 
again. At last drain off again and chop it a little in 
the same vessel. 

Dish a spoonful in a flat dish and a slice of corned 
beef on top. 

1080. New England Boiled Dinner. 

One of the first favorites in restaurants where 
each dish bears a stated price, being a complete 
dinner or two kinds of meat and a variety of veget- 
ables, with bread at the side. 

The price in the best Chicago restaurants is 35 
cents, {the cuts and the dish it is served on being 
both of a liberal size. 

The New England boiled dinner is generally dis- 
favored by hotel keepers as a hotel dinner dish, be- 
cause, however good and complete it is, through the 
unbreakable routine of the waiters and cooks who 



dish up the vegetables, the person ordering is pretty 
certain to get a duplicate set of vegetables placed 
before him along with the additional meat or entree 
that he will call for himself. The result is the waste 
of about the amount of one person's dinner. 

The dish consists of: 

1 or 2 slices of boiled corned beef. 

1 smaller slice of boiled salt pork. 

1 spoonful of boiled cabbage. 

1 potato. 

1 parsnip. 

1 carrot. 

1 turnip. 

1 onion. 

1 beet. 

Or, pieces of the above vegetables equivalent in 
size to the spoonful of cabbage. P. ace the veget- 
ables in the dish (a 7 or 8 inch fiat platter) and the 
meat slices on top. 

1081. Boiled Mutton, Caper Sauce. 

The leg of mutton is the proper cut to boil If 
there is sufficient demand for it there should be two 
at ouce, one cooked rare in about one hour, the oth- 
er well done in one and one-half hours. 

Drop the mutton into water or the soup slock that 
is already boiling, and be careful never to put a fork 
into it. The gravy should run from a leg of a mutton 
when cut the same as from roast beef. 

When the boned scrag end of the neck, rolled up 
and tied with twine, or the rolled shoulder is cooked 
for boiled mutton the above rules do not apply, but 
these should be boiled three hours to make them ten- 
der. 

For caper sauce, see Nos. 916 and 928, or the 
following. 



1082. Pickle Sauce, for Mutton and 
Tongue. 

1 pint of clear strained soup stock. 

Flour and water thickening. 

Butter size of an egg. 

1 pickled cucumber. 

Salt. 

Set the stock or water on to boil, thicken it to the 
consistency of butter sauce. Beat in the butter a 
small piece at a time, and salt to taste. If not good 
yellow butter the yolk of an egg will improve the 
color. Chop the pickled cucumber and mix it 



1083. Boiled Tongue. 

An ox tongue needs to boil three hours to be ten- 
der. When done, take it up, dip in cold water, and 
peel off the skin. Serve sliced with caper Bauce or 
ts nice piquant. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



295 



1084. Piquant Sauce. 

Is brown sauce made pleasantly sharp and relish- 
ing with vinegar, a piece of onion, some bruised 
peppercorns, and half a biy leaf boiled in it. Strain 
it and add a few capers or chopped pickle, making 
it in effect a brown caper sauce. 



1085. Boiled Corned Tongue. 

Boil the tongue three hours. Dip it in cold water 
and peel off the skin. Carve it slanting across to 
make long and thin slices and serve like boiled ham 
wilhout sauce. 

Directions for corning tongues at No. 792. 



1086. Boiled Ham. 

See directions at No. 1035. To glaze a ham to 
slice cold, No. 812. 

The butt end of a ham and shank left over when 
the rest has been sliced for broiling will be suffi- 
ciently well done in one hours' boiling. 



1087. Boiled Ox Heart, with Gravy 

A fair proportion of this kind of meat which usu- 
ally goes slowly or not at all can be disposed of by 
cooking it as follows: 

Boil it not lets than three hours in the salt meat 
boiler, or, if not there convenient, in the stock 
boiler. Carve it in broad slices and serve brown 
gravy with it. One such heart per day will gener- 
ally be consumed if it is cooked tender. It is poor 
policy to warm any over and use it the second day, 
when a fresh one may be had for the asking. 
Wash the inside cavities free from blood before 
cooking. 

1088. Boiled Turkey, Oyster Sauce- 

Detailef'. directions for boiling a turkey may be 
found at No. 1046. 

White oyster Bauce at No. 852. 

The same sauce is suitable with boiled chicken. 



1089. Boiled Chicken, with Salt Pork. 

Boiled fowls go a little further than roast, per- 
haps because no part of Iheni is dried, but all can be 
carved and served advantngeously. 

Boil the fowls in the soup stock, salted, but with- 
out any spice flavorings, for a time, according to the 
kind. Chickens may be done in one-half hour, old 
fowls in 2 to 4 hours. They can be tried occasion- 
ally while boiliug. 

Parboil about 3 pounds of salt or pickled pork 
and afterwards finish cooking it in the same boiler 
with the chickens — it will need '_to cook about one 
and one half hours Serve a small slice of the 
pickled pork with each dish of chicken. 



Chicken oooked as above in liquor slightly salted 
does not need a sauce, but if needed for better ap- 
pearance use either butter or cream sauce, with 
perhaps, a little parsley minced and mixed in. 

1090. Boiled Chicken, Egg Sauce. 

Boil chickens and serve with egg sauce No. 936, 
Boiled turkey the same way. 

1091- Boiled Chicken, Celery Sauoo. 

Boil chickens and serve with the white celery 
sauce of the next receipt. Boiled turkey the same 
way. 



1092. White Celery Sauce. 

Boil the outside stalks of celery, about 6 or 8 — 
white, tender and good stalks, but such as are left 
in the celery glasses when the hearts have been 
been picked out — for about 20 minutes. Cut them 
in small pieces. 

Make cream sauce, No. 931, put the pieces of 
celery in and let simmer a short time to extract the 
flavor. 



1093. Boiled Jowl and Spinach. 

Steep two jowls in warm water and scrub off the 
rank, smoky outside with a brush. Boil for three 
hours in a vessel by themselves. Trim and shave 
along the lips and on the outside fat. Serve sliced 
on top of spinach in a dish. See hams and spinaoh. 
No. 1035. 



1094. Boiled Pork and Sauer Kraut. 

Rinse off the sauer kraut in cold water. Boil it 
from 2 to 3 hours. Drain, and keep it hot in a sink 
ot the steam chest. 

Boil a piece of pickled pork about one and a half 
or two hours, the latter part of the time in the sauer 
kraut. Serve slices on top of the kraut in the 
dish. 



There are people of other nationalities who evi- 
dently think they know more about making sauer 
kraut than Americans do. But then even the doc- 
tors disagree. 

A German has been heard to say of American 
sauer kraut: "It is too salt. Barrel should have 
two inches of salt laid on bottom, then filled with 
shred cabbage very hard pressed down. Stand a 
week or two, then put in a gallon of vinegar — that's 
better than all your salt." 

And a Swede answers: 

•< We don't put any vinegar in. Let the cabbage 
Btand till it makes its own sourness; always hard 
pressed down." 



2'JG 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



1095. Imitation Sauer Kraut— Made 

as Wanted. 

Shred some white cabbage in the usual nay of 
shaving up for sauer kraut over night, press it down 
in a jar and cover it with a mixture of vinegar and 
water and salt. When to be cooked next morning 
take it out of the pickle, wash it, and boil it in wa- 
ter with a oupful of vinegar in it, a little salt and 
piece of pickled pork. Cook two or three hours. 
The same pickle iu the jar oan be used again. It 
should be one-third vinegar. 

1096. Keeping Meat to Make it Tender. 

Our friends, the butchers, have always the an- 
swer ready to the complaint that the meat is tough, 
that we in hotels don't give it a chance to become 
tender for we don't keep it long enough. They say' 
with good reason too, that the best meat they kill is 
not tender the day after it is killed; that game, 
even the largest game, is tenderer than butcher's 
meat, partly because such a considerable interval 
elapses between the killing and the cooking of it; 
that their beef shipped by rail and vessel improves 
in the time and is just right for eating when it 
reaches its destination; that in the old countries 
where the study of good eating has been carried to 
the highest pitch the rich hang their meats till they 
are in danger of spoiling, both for tenderness and 
enhanced flavor. 

While all this is true it is a matter generally be 
yond the control of tbs conk. It is easy to see that 
the large butchers who can keep a stock of meat on 
hand have an advantage over the small butchers 
who cannot though the latter may buy equally as 
good stock; and ea°y to see that if the butcher kills 
regularly every afternoon and the hotel buyer buys 
regularly at nine o'clock the next morning, and the 
cook has to put the meat to the fire immediately for 
dinner, that that hotel may go on the year round 
always having tough meat, although it may be cut 
from equally as good animals and bought at an 
equally high price with another hotel that always 
has good meat because it has a good place — cool, 
dry and dark — to keep it a few days in, and be- 
cause it has a buyer who is aware that keeping does 
make a difference. 



1097. The Vinegar Remedy. 

It has been published before, notably in a book 
dated 1857, and has since been revived, the state- 
ment that to rub or steep tough meut in vinegar 
would make it tender. It is meotiond here for the 
purpose of saying with genuine sorrow that the rem- 
edy is no good. It is possible to keep cut beefsteaks 
that would spoil before night a considerable time 
lunger by covering them with vinegar, but as they 



are then sour all through their last state is not much 
better than the first. However, our readers will try 
it for themselves. 

1098. Hotel Broiling. 

The propriety of having a hotel cook book for ho. 
tela especially is apparent in nothing so much as in 
the peculiar conditions of hotel broiling. It seems 
to have been the fashion ever since the art of print- 
ing was discovered and cook books began to be made 
for the cook to broil the meats as he pleased or 
rather as he was told by the instructors to do and 
for the people at table to receive what was given 
them gratefully,never questioning.but what the cooks 
in their superior wisdom sent them must be the best. 
But evidently now "the times are out of joint;" the 
tables are turned; it has got to be so that the people 
at the hotel table will not have it that smooth and 
easy way, but they have learned to do the ordering 
and the cooks have to do the obeying, and all our 
teachers' authorative instructions have not now the 
weight of a feather. This makes the hotel broiler's 
a very difficult position. He is baffled about by 
every wind of opinion that blows about the dining 
room tables. He must be all mind, yet have no 
mind of his own; must understand ai4 remember 
everything and feel nothing, either lusUcrous or of- 
fensive. There are very few really good hotel 
broilers. 

Of course it is not merely to broil for this one 
rare, that one medium and another one well done — 
these simple movements are varied like the move- 
ments in a grand dance, in a large and good hotel, 
and the broiling cook gets dizzy. 

Let us both for direct "instruction and for the ex- 
hibition of a matter that is very little understood 
suppose a case in a medium sized hotel having, say, 
two hundred guests attended at table by twenty 
wafers. 

Breakfast is a little the most troublesome meal 
and there is always what is known to the hands as 
the first rush, when probably 15 out of the 20 
waiters will come at once, each giving perhaps five 
person's orders for probably five different articles 
each. In preparation for this commencement there 
aie a long range glowing with heat and two bright 
glowiog charcoal broilers. At least, as we do not 
love pictures of misery, we will hope there are two 
charcoal burners for so many. We will hope, too, 
that the charcoal will glow; that it is not kept where 
it gets snowed upon or rained upon and that it is 
not li ill' dust and dirt, and that the chimney has a 
good draft. 

The pans of cut meats are brought out of the re- 
frigerator at the minute of opening the doors. There 
are two, perhaps three of them, with beef, veal, 
mutton, lamb, fresh pork and chicken, ham, bacon, 
,salt poik, h-ver, tripe, pig's t'ect, kidneys, venisou 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



297 



and sliced dried beef; salmon steak, salt mackerel 
and whitefish, and they are set on the zinc table in 
front of (he girdirons. There is a dish of various 
cold cooied meats somewhere near at hand. The 
short order cook has the middle of the table and the 
middle of the range for cooking eggs and omelets, 
frying breaded articles, and perhaps he has the po- 
tatoes and onions, fried mush and tripe in batter, 
and the like. There are, already prepared, a dish 
of graled or minced cheese for cheese omelets, 
minced ham and parsley for omelets of those descrip- 
tions, tomatoes and garlic, onion and minced pep- 
pers for Spanish omelets and beefsteaks, aud a Bhal 
low pan half full of eggs ready broken stands ready 
with a ladle in it to dip them out for cooking, and 
another with ready made omelet mixture of eggs with 
a little milk and salt. Shallow saucepans are sim- 
mering on the range for poached eggs, aud if there 
are no steam cooking apparatus, others, at least two, 
are ready for boiling eggs, while a tray of dishes 
ready buttered are there for eggs shirred. A row 
of omelet and frying pans rest on the bright bar 
along the front of the range ready for fried and 
scrambled. It would lead too far from the broiler 
to note the stews, the special sauces, the boiled 
mushes, two or three kinds; the hot breads and 
cakes, hot milk, coffee, teas and chocolate, and how, 
after all, some persons will send out for the special 
sort of cocoa or broma that is not there. 

At first it runs along smooth and straight. Some 
three or four veal cutlets have been breaded and 
fried beforehand and perhaps two each of pork and 
mutton. Some more ready breaded are in the pans 
and will be cooked as ordered after the first rush is 
sa isfied. On the left of the broiler's position there 
is a little side shelf or bracket used for nothing else- 
on which he has a plate, a small pan of melted but- 
ter and a tin bound flat brush. The ordinary or- 
ders come and he ta.es the steak or chop, lays it on 
the plate and draws the butter brush over it, oiling 
it just sufficiently to prevent sticking to the girdiron 
but never enough to drip. Then he once more pol- 
ishes the girdiron by rubbing it as hard as possible 
with a coarse oloth, lays the meats on it and then 
dredges them all at once, so as to save time, with a 
mixture of two-thirds fine salt and one-third black 
pepper. These are beefsteaks or chops or cutlets 
either rare or well done as ordered without further 
comment — except that an order comes — "and be 
sure to season it well while it's cooking," which is 
immediately followed by an order for "plenty of 
butler gravy but no salt and pepper on it." These 
two ordersof course must be kept in view separately 
among all the others on the girdiron, but that is 
nothiog but routine. Presently, however, a waiter 
comes, and after crying off an order for four or five, 
or a family, taking an assortment of articles from 
here and there over the whole length and breadth 
of the kitchen winds up with — "aud 3 steaks, 3 



poached eggs and 2 boiled'mackerels and 1 broiled 
for the Three Old Butter Maids." 

As the orders, not of this waiter alone but of half 
a dozen before have been dropped the different 
cooks or assistants have picked up each the items 
that fell to their department, and the broiler, with 
his girdirons full of meats ordered to be of several 
different shades when done is supposed to have them 
all in his head in regular routine and still listening 
ready to store his mind with more, but the order of 
the three old butter maids proves to be a disturbing 
element. 

The appellation given to the three distinguished 
guests has no suggestion of humor iu it for these 
workers; it is not even disrespectful; it is merely an 
abbreviation or sign understood between the waiter 
and the broiling and fryingcooksand by nooneelse, 
adopted through necessity where there is a difficulty 
in even getting heard in regular turn. Really it 
should have been "the three butler old maids," but 
the word butter was out of rythmand the waiter was 
conscious of it and placed it the other way. The 
parties alluded to are not even old maids at all, but 
a mother and her two young daughters, but the ne- 
cessity of having a sign for them overrode all tri- 
fling facts like that. The simple explanation is that 
when they arrived they impressed it upon the wait- 
er, who took a leisure minute to impress it in turn- 
upon the cook, that butter was their particular ab. 
horrence, that their physician had forbidden them 
to eat butter, that they could not touch any article 
that had been prepared with it, or had any in its 
composition, and they could not stay in any hotel 
twelve hours unless they were guaranteed perfect 
exemption from butter. Consequently the late or- 
der means that the steaks are not to be touched wi h 
the butter brush, nor yet the broiled mackerel, that 
the boiled mackerel must not have the usual 
tablespoonful poured over it in the dish, and al- 
though the poached eggs must be served upon toast 
the toast must be unbutttered, and all this and much 
more is conveyed in the four words. It adds to the 
disturbance of the routine when au instant after an- 
other waiter in loud and significant tones calls for 
"a full order of breakfast bacon for the Twice- 
turned-over and-done-to-a-crisp Old Man," because 
the bacon creating flame and smoke will perhaps 
give a taste that the butter maids will swear (figura- 
tively) is butter and raise a rumpus about it, and 
the trouble increases when the next wants "pork 
chops in crumbs and butter for the family-with-no- 
eggs," the latter meaning that these have as thor- 
ough an aversion to everything containing eggs as 
the others for butter, and their breaded and broiled 
cutlets must be specially prepared for them either 
with batter and crumbs, or crumbs pressed on plain 
and buttered on them while broiling. The family- 
with-no-egg will send out and ask whether there is 
eggs in the soup and the ice cream a'.d the eutrees 



298 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



before they order, and have special puddings and 
cakes made for them. But that is neither here nor 
\here. Neiiher, perhaps, is the fi^h that ought to 
be when the order comes for "a broiled big trout for 
The General-split-down-the-back-and-bacon-inside," 
which, of course, is an unexpected order from a 
great man who pays extra, and the broiler must try 
to procure that trout even if hehashis two gridirons 
full of meats at the time. 

While, therefore, we wish the broiling cook well 
and hope he will survive where it is a case of the 
survival of the fittest, it is sad to have to say that 
very little help can be offered, seeing that no cast 
iron rules can ever be adapted to the circumstan- 
ces. 

It is wrong and very foolish for him to lose Mb 
temper and his patience and get to quarreling with 
the waiters and losing track of things and mixing 
orders, even if the steak that he has sent in out thin 
and dried like a shoe sole is sent back to him for 
"more fire," because the person has succeeded by 
hard pressuie in forcing out one drop of gravy and 
declares it not done; or the steak barely warmed is 
returned as too well done by another, who sighs as 
he declares that he has searched half the country 
over for a hotel where he could get a steak cooked 
rare. The broiling cook should remain imperturbable. 
The people in the dining room are not fighting him 
but are having their own duels across the table. The 
well done party opposite has contrived to show in- 
tense disgust at this man's raw beefsteak, and he, 
perhaps, for pure deviltry, has sent out for one red- 
der yet. 

Seriously, the most of the difficullies that arise 
and lead to the frequent chinges of cooks and the 
host of small inconveniences resulting, and get for 
the cooks the stigma of being "always on the wing," 
and worse things, begin over the meat broiler, but 
might be prevented, and in well governed hotels are 
preveuted, by some quiet person in authorily keep- 
ing watch for one hour and bringing up a little help 
when the skirmish grows serious — to minoe the 
cheese for an omelet, that was forgotten, to ieplenish 
the meat pans, to prepare the unexpected trout 
order, possibly, in extreme oases, even to give the 
half roasted cook a spell long enough to wipe the 
perspiration from his face and get a drink — of wa- 
ter, of course. 



1O09. Broiling Beefsteas. 

The exceptions and provisos being noted above 
it villains to be said that it is not quite option- 
al whether in regular course the steaks and 
chops should be previously brushed over with 
butter or not, for when the meat is poor and 
lean thmt is the only way there is to prevent it from 
Bticking to the bars and being torn in turning and 



causing delay. Most people like the butter season- 
ing, the meats go in looking the better for it, and 
most hotel keepers make it a point to provide good, 
sweet butter for that purpose. Where such is not the 
case the fat from fried breakfast bacon is the bes 
substitute — to broil with, not to pour on the steaks 
when done — and failing that, fresh roast meat drip- 
ings can be used. Where it is desired to broil the 
meats absolutely plain rub the bars of the gridiron 
with a ham rind and be careful not to let the bars 
get too hot. 

When broiling fat mutton and pork ohops and the 
flames are troublesome and moke the meat throw 
coarse salt on the charcoal, it will generally extin- 
guish them, and another expedient is to raise 
the gridiron to the highest position, shut down the 
front and so create such a draft that the fiames will be 
oarried horizontally towards the chimney without 
he meat above being touched by them. 



1100. Beefsteak with Natural Gravy. 

Beef.iteaks and other meats carefully broiled with 
the fork never thrust into them except in the fut 
edge or a loose oorner yield a gravy of their own on 
he dish after a few minutes. In addition to this a 
few rough and coarse slices cut thick can be broiled 
half done and kept in a pan or dish, and if pierced 
with a fork several times will yield perhaps a cupful 
of gravy for special orders. Invalids often beg for 
this sort of sauce where it seems to bethought im. 
possible to furnish it. 

1101. " Old-Pashioned " Broiled Beef- 

steak and Gravy. 

Probably the term is a misnomer for the sime 
sort of steak must still be in fashion in some places, 
but that is the way we hear it spoken of. Or- 
ders and polite requests from people who have made 
themselves at home in the hotel sometimes reach the 
kitchen that are quite unintelligible. When it is 
for a fried stea.i with old fashioned gravy, and the 
brown sauce or stew gravy sent theji does not fill 
the bill, we begin to think they mean this followiug; 
but it is not in the regular routine, and they will 
hardly succeed in obtaining it. 

You take a whole sirloin steak, pretty nearly as 
long as your arm and proportionately broad, notch 
the rough edges to prevent curling, and make a show 
of beating it out a little on the kitchen table. Put a 
shovelful of charcoal in the ash-pan ofthe steamboat 
range, or the front of the country hotel stove, draw 
some hot coals on that, and when it is all aglow, put 
on your four-legged gridiron and the steak and pan 
inverted over it, and let it cook medium well done. 

Put one-half pound of butter into a pan and 
about a tablespoonful of black pepper, and as much 
salt, and mix them together ; take the steak up into 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



299 



Ibe pan and press it into the buiter, and press out 
all its juices, then pour in a cup of hot water, sel 
the pan over the coals, and when it begins to sim- 
mer the meat gravy and pepper will have th ckeued 
the water, and there is your old-fashioned steak. 
The sequel is, somebody will carve it into pieces 
about the size of two fingers, and the people will 
pass up their plates and get their spoonful of the 
gravy. 

The next thing to broiling for that kind of beef- 
steak is frying over the tire, but a little piece in a 
pan does not come out natural-looking, but burns 
around the edges — it must be a full pan or notb. 
iog- 



1102. Broiled Porterhouse Steak. 

An expedient adopted in some restaurants for 
gelling a large and thick beefsteak done in a reas- 
onable time, and to preserve its flat shape is to have 
two fire bricks, well polished, on the gridiron hot, 
aud place one or both on the steak while broiling 
the first side. After turning over the brick must 
be set aside to allow the gravy to collect on the top 
of the steak. 

Time for broiling six to ten minutes. Serve with 
s ime sort of potatoes around and quartered lemon 
on lop. 



1103. French Beefsteak. 

A tenderloin or fillet steak broiled, and fried po- 
tato balls or other fancy cut potatoes around it in the 
dish with buiter and quartered lemon. 



1104. Beefsteak Maitre d'Hotel. 

Broil a beefsteak and place it on a hot dish, chop 
up a lump of butter in a small frying pan over the 
fire, when it is melted throw in a teaspoonful of 
chopped parsley, then pour it over the steak. Cut a 
lemon in four. Squeeze the iuice of two pieces over 
the steak, and place the other two quarters in the 
dish as a garnish. 



1105. Beefsteak, Sauce Piquante. 

Broil a beefsteak fairly well done and pour over 
it the following sauce : 

Put into a small sauoepan one-half cupful of 
brown sauoe, a basting-spoon of stock to thin it 
down, one half a bay leaf, a level teaspoonful of 
bruised pepper-corns and a basting*poon of good 
viuegar or caper vinegar. Let is boil rapidly while 
the steak is cooking, then strain it and throw in a 
teaspoonful of capers. 

1106. Beefsteak with Champignons. 

Broil a beefsteak and pour around and over it a 
quarter can or more of Frecch mushrooms prepared 
as follows : 



Put the mushrooms drained dry into a small fry- 
ing pan with a little butter, shake about on the 
range until they begin to brown. Draw the mush- 
rooms to one side, and work into the hot buiter a 
small tablespoonful of flour. Pour in half mush- 
room liquor and half water, stir smooth, season 
with salt and pepper and a squeeze of lemon, boil 
up and dish. 



1107. English Rump Steak with Mush- 
rooms. 

Broil a slice from [the "silver side" or tender 
side of Ihe round of beef, cut rather thick, and a 
little underdone, and serve it with broiled, baked, 
or fried fresh mushrooms, as follows : 



1108. Fresh Mushrooms. 

For an accompaniment to broiled meat the canned 
button mushrooms bear [no comparison in richness 
with the large, wide-open, fresh mushrooms from 
the fields. At leasijfifty varieties of mushrooms are 
eaten in European countries, and there are kinds 
that are poisonous. We know but one kind and 
take no risks on the others. The true mushroom is 
of a delicate pink or flesh color on the under side 
wheu it first opens, and darkens to chocolate color 
and then black, according to the (ime it continues 
growing. 

When such can be obtained cut off most of the 
stem, peel the top of the mushroom, shake about in 
cold water to free it [from grit or sand, and fry 
(saute) enough of them together in a little butter in 
a frying pan to touch and cover the bottom while 
cooking. They shrink very much, but give out a 
gravy of the richest description, which should not 
be allowed to dry up in the pan. Season with prp- 
per and salt. When the mushrooms are done — in 
six or eight minutes — place them on top of the beef- 
steak and pour the gravy and butter over likewise 

Another way, most suitable when the mushrooms 
are to form a dish alone, is to place them top down- 
wards in a baking pan, dredge with salt and pep- 
per, put a small piece of butter in each, bake 
done and serve without turning over. 



1109. Spanish Beefsteak. 

Broil a beefsteak fairly well done, and serve it 
laid on top of the following sauce in a hot 
dish : Put into a frying-pan an ounce of but- 
ter, and while it is gradually melting cut up a clove 
of garlic and a small onion, and fry them slightly 
yellow ; put in either four peeled tomatoes or two 
basting-spoonfuls from a pan, and one-half pod of 
red pepper minced, and a little salt. Let stew down 
nearly dry, and place in the dish neatly with a 
spoon. 



300 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



1110 Beefsteak with Tomatoes. 

Mash a few peeled tomatoes — or use some from 
a can — in a sancepan over the fire. Season with 
butter, pepper and salt, and let slew down thick 
without burning. Dish around the steak. 



1111. Devilled Beefsteak. 

Broiled beefsteak with a sauce made of half 
brown sauce and half Worcestershire or Halford 
sauce mixed together and made hot. 



1112. Beefsteak -with Onions. 

Shave two onions thin as possible into a frying- 
pan, put in a little lard and butter, turn a plate up- 
side down upon them and fry them done in five min- 
utes. Take off the plate and let them begin to brown. 
Drain from grease in one side of the pan, then dish 
them on top of the steak in a hot dish. 



1113. Beefsteak Milanaise. 

Boil four sticks of macaroni broken up in salted 
water for twenty minutes. Drain out, shake it up 
with a spoonful of butter and a spoonful of tomato 
sauce ; turn it into a hot dish and place the broiled 
beefsteak on top. 



1114. Beefsteak with Oysters. 

Broil a beefsteak and ser"e it with brown oyster 
siuce (Nob. 853 and 854.) 

1115 Hamburgh Steak. 

Beef chopped into sausage meat — one-fourth fat 
or suet — and seasoned with onion and a little gar- 
lic, pepper and salt. 

Chop the beef or put it through a sausage cutler. 
With afour ounce pat of it mix one-half clove of gar- 
lic and a teaspoonful of minced onion, both minced 
fine, and one half teaspoon of mixed pepper and 
salt. Flatten it out to a cake in a frying-pan, quite 
thin, fry on both sides, dish with its own gravy 
poured over and Lyonaise potatoes around. 

Numbers of people who like Hamburgh steak 
either cannot or dare not eat the garlic and onions, 
in such cases these seasonings can be omitted, and 
only salt and pepper used. Hamburgh steak should 
be made of tender meat, but the ill-shaped and 
small pieces left when cutting the loin answer for it. 
The attempt to use really tough beef in this way 
defeats iaself, for the steaks are not good, and are 
then no more called for 



III6. Lyonaise Potatoes. 

Cold boiled potatoes sliced into a frying-pan with 
a little drippings, and browned more or less, as at 



No. 878, and called in the restaurants saute or Dutch 
fried potatoes, aie also most frequently served in 
public plaoes as Lyonaise, because of the very gen- 
eral objection that exists to eating fried onions. 
That is to say the onions are left out of Lyonaise for 
accommodation, just as they aie out of Hamburgh 
steak when so ordered. 

To make Lyonaise potatoes mince an onion — about 
a tablespoonful — into a frying-pan, put in as much 
drippings, and fry the onion a light color, then put 
in cooked potatoes cut thick, pepper and Bait. Let 
them slowly brown on the bottom at the side of the 
range, then shake the pan so as to throw the brown 
side on top, and continue cooking until they are 
evenly colored. 

See also minced potatoes, No. 8G8. Among the 
various contrary orders that reach the hotel and 
restaurant cook, some wish them that way. Minced 
onions can be cooked and mixed with the minced 
potatoes. 



III7. Broiled Mutton Chops. 

Single chops broil about four or five minutes, and 
serve with a small spoonful of melted fresh butter 
and sprigs of parsley in the dish. They are called 
for and served in all the same ways as beefsteak. 



III8. A Dish of Mutton Chops. 

Broil the required number, and cut as many 
pieces of thin buttered toast to the same shape. 
Set the chops on end leaning in the dish, and the 
pieces of toast placed alternately between them. 
Garnish with parsley and lemon. 

1119 Mutton Chops with Tomato Sauce. 

Broiled mutton chops and pour around them to- 
mato sauce made as follows : 



1120. Tomato Sauce. 

Boi 1 a few tomatoes, or part of a oan, mash with 
the back of a spoon, and throw in three or 
four cloves, and a teaspoon of minced onion. 
Thicken with a teaspoonful of flour, and twice as 
much butter browned together in a frying-pan, then 
rub the sauce through a strainer, or if in haste, 
through a small colander. Season with salt and 
pepper. 

1121. Lamb Chops with Green Peas. 

Broil lamb chops three or four minutes, place two 
or three or more, leauingand overlapping, in a dish 
and pour green peas made hot, either in butter or 
in cream sauce, around them. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



301 



1122. 



Broiled Pork Chops with Milk 
Gravy. 



Fry the chops fir9t, then lay them on the grid- 
iron, as they are hard to cook, while you pour half 
a cup of milk in the pan, pepper and salt, and 
thicken with browned flour-and-butter, or wilh 
plain thickening. Strain the sauce into the dish 
and lay the chop in it. 

1123. Broiled Slices of Salt Pork. 

Dip the slices in flour before broiling; they color 
better and do not drip so much fat. 



1124. Broiled Ham and Eggs. 

Broil broad thin slices of ham over clear coals, 
nicely co'ored on both sides in four minutes. Place 
the ham a little towards one end in a roomy dish 
and the fried eggs partly resting on the ham and 
partly in the dish. 

1125. Broiled Liver and Bacon. 

Calf's liver is the best. The liver should be sliced 
broad but thin. Brush over the slice with bacon 
fat, pepper and salt it and broil five minutes. Serve 
with a strip of bacon on top. 

1126. Broiled Breakfast Bacon. 

The endeavor should be made as far as possible 
to avoid broiling bacon whenever frying or baking 
will serve the purpose as well. It is not only ex- 
ceedingly wasteful, as most affect it done to a crisp, 
a mere crackling, but it destroys the broiling lire, 
flares and smokes more than any other article. If 
fried carefully most of it will be saved in the form 
of fat, which is useful in sauteeing potatoes and 
otherwise. 

1127. Broiled Liver, Plain. 

Dip the slices of liver in flour and broil them. 
When about done spread a teaspoonful of soft butter 
on each side, let it continue broiling until the butter 
is in a froth, then serve it hot 



1128. Broiled Honeycomb Tripe. 

Cook precisely as directed above for liver, with 
care not to have any surplus flour filling the cavi- 
ties. Serve the honeycomb side up and garnish 
with parsley and a cut of lemon. 

1129. Broiled Kidneys. 

Sheep's kidneys are the best, calf s are next best, 
Slice them for broiling through the suet, before 
taking them out, then trim off the surrounding fat, 



except a small rim all around. Put them in the 
hinged wire toaster, pepper, salt and butter them 
and broil a little longer time than beefsteaks, or 
until fairly cooked through. Serve with a little 
butter and whatever of their oirn gravy may have 
collected on top. 

Kidneys are good at two periods in cooking: when 
they are barely done through, and again after they 
have been stewed two or three hours. In the in- 
termediate time they are hard and undesirable. 

1130. Economy of Broiled Meats. 

Chops, steaks, etc., that are cooked through mis- 
take of orders or are sent back as too well done and 
for other reasons, should be put. into a small pan of 
well-seasoned gravy, like the "old-fashioned" beef- 
steak at No. 1101, and so kept fresh and savory. 
They will always be in demand for some persons. 



II3I. Easy Broiling of Pish. 

Fresh fish now transported for long distances, 
often, after frost, comes out too soft to be easily 
broiled. Dip the pieees or sides cf such in flour, 
and butter while broiling, the same as liver and 
tripe, and they will not adhere to the gridiron nor 
break up. 

Salt mackerel that has not had time to get dry and 
would not brown otherwise can be well broiled in 
the same way. 



1132. Broiled Chickens. 

Split down the back to draw them, wash, and 
wipe dry. Flatten the chickens down with a blow 
of the cleaver. Brush over with butter and broil 
about ten minutes. If large, place the hot brick on 
top, mentioned at No. 1102. 

Make some butter gravy as at 1101, in a pan, and 
press the chickens down in it as cooked until 
enough have been broiled for the hotel breakfast. 
Restaurant orders have various accessories such as 
peas and tomatoes to go with broiled chicken. 



1133. Broiled Quail on Toast. 

Everything, so to speak, is in the looks. It should 
not lie on the toast humped up and with the limbs 
pointing many different ways, but should lie flat, 
round and compact. This is accomplished by flat- 
tening the quail, after opening and cleaning it 
sufficiently, with a few pats of the cleaver to depress 
the breast bone and loosen ihe. joints, not necessar- 
ily to mash the meat or make splinters in it. Split 
the quail down the back to open it, like a young 
chicken, rinse off in cold water and wipe it dry 
and brush over with butter. Broil it about eight 
minutes, perhaps with the hot brick on top if in 
haste. Have ready a little melted butter, pepper 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



and salt in a pan, press the quail down into it, dish 
on toast and garnish if required. 

To make a neat appearance, the toast should be 
cut to shape. Cut a square slice of toast diagonally 
across, making two triangles, aDd place the broad 
ends together in the dish. 



1134. Broiled Snipe and Plover. 

Not different from quail except in the time requir- 
ed for cooking, which is less than for quail, and the 
different sorts of potatoes, mushrooms, sauces, etc., 
that are required with restaurant orders. 



1135. Broiled Young Rabbit. 

Rabbits broiled are much neater in appearance 
and more evenly cooked if they can be had before 
they are dressed, and split down the back with a 
strong knife and so laid open. Wash and wipe dry, 
flatten them with the cleaver, brush over with bacon 
fat or butter, and broil about 15 minutes with the 
two hot fire bricks on top. Dip in butter gravy or 
pour a little over them. Broiled salt pork or bacon 
laid on top for restaurant orders and potatoes 
around in the dish. 



1136. Broiled Squirrel. 

The same as rabbit but taking less time to cook, 



1137. Broiled Teal Duck. 

Prepare for broiling like chicken and quail, cook 
with the inside downwards first and the hot brick 
on top, then turn them over, lay the brick aside 
and baste with a little butter. They take about 12 
or 15 minutes to cook. Serve with butter gravy 
and lemon, or currant jelly, or orange sauce. 

For hotel breakfasts they are best done in a pan 
on the top shelf in the range. 



1138. Boiled Eggs. 

The best furnished hotel kitchens have a kettle 
much like a long fish kettle in appearance, and a 
number of tin baskets, each with its handle, that 
fit in side by side. The kettle is full of boiling 
water, and the baskets with different orders of eggs 
can be withdrawn without disturbing the others 
One hand is detailed to attend to the egg boiling, 
and he has sand glasses to time them by, or a clock 
or both. At ordinary levels two or three minutes 
for soft-boiled and four or five for hard-boiled is the 
rule, but at great altitudes in the Rocky Mountains 
as much as eight minutes is the least time for hard- 
boiled eggs. The low point at which water boils is 
the reason for the difference. 



1139. Poached Eggs. 

Also called dropped eggs. 

It is no trouble to poach eggs handsomely if tw« 
or three rules are observed. 

Have a roomy vessel with plenty of water, the 
frying-pan shape is good, but it is not deep enough. 
Have a little salt in the water. Never let the water 
boil furiously after the eggs are in, as that breaks 
them; keep it gently simmering at the sides. 

The eggs break and are wasted because when 
first dropped they go heavily to the hot bottom and 
there stick, to prevent which set the water in motion 
by stirring it around with a spoon. The eggs 
dropped in are carried around a moment and the 
white cooks sufficiently to prevent adhesion. 

Break the eggs carefully into little dishes and 
drop into the water one at a time. Take tbem out 
with a perforated ladle. 

Serve either well drained in a small deep dish 
and a speck of butter on top or else laid neatly on 
a trimmed slice of buttered toast. 



1140. Fried Eggs. 

These are the most called-for of any form in which 
eggs are cooked and there is the widest possible 
difference between the work of a skillful and un- 
skillful cook in this particular. The fried eggs that 
are a disgrace to any table are broken as to the 
yolks before they go in the pan, then they have 
black grease simmering up all around the edges and 
running over their surface, they are cooked nearly 
as hard as leather, they stick to the pan and can- 
not be turned over and finally when they are forci- 
bly pushed into a dish the same smoky, black grease 
flows around them like gravy That it should hap- 
pen so sometimes is nothing to be remarked, but 
these lines are prompted by amazement that some 
will go on frying eggs that way always and habi- 
tually and do not seem to know that anything is 
wrong. 

To fry eggs cleanly and handsomely, keep the 
small frying pins always rubbed clean, if not 
bright, and never set them empty upon the range 
but keep them warm on the bar along the front 
ofitorona hot shelf or a row of bricks at I he 
back. 

Put into the pan not more than a tablespoonful 
of clear melted lard. Break the eggs into small 
dishes if for a few people, two in a dish; for a large 
number break several dozens into a pail and take 
out by twos with a ladle. Put them into the warm 
pan and then set on the range and they will not 
stick or break in the pan. Shake them only after 
the yolks have begun to set. 

Fried eggs are called for "straight up and soft" — 
which means only done on the underside; cooked 
hard, which sometimes requires the»pan to be held 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



303 



inside the oven; half turned over, which is doubled 
in half upon itself; and turned over, which can be 
done with an egg-slice. 



1141. Scrambled Eggs. 

Not to be beaten up like an omelet but dropped 
into the frying-pan, sprinkled with pepper and salt 
and stirred around about a dozen times with a fork 
or spoon while cooking. Take out before they cook 
quite dry and hard; heap in the middle of a flat 
dish. 

1142. Buttered Eggs. 

Put two eggs, two tablespoonfuls of melted butter 
and a pinch of salt into a small saucepan or tin cup, 
set it in the boiling water on the range and rapidly 
beat it until cooked thick enough, either to serve on 
toast or like scrambled eggs in a dish. 

1143. Shirred Eggs. 

Some people keep little yellow-ware dishes for 
this purpose, or other dishes that cannot be dam- 
aged by baking. Spread with a teaspoon a slight 
coating of soft butter over the inside of the dish, 
drop in two eggs, not beaten, and set them inside 
the oven, or, perhaps, on the top of the range on 
one side. Try by shaking, and take them out when 
the whites are quite cooked. Send in in the same 
dish set in a flat one. 



1144. Plain Omelet. 

Two eggs and one table9poonful of milk. Add a 
pinch of salt, beat in a bowl enough to thoroughly 
mix but not make it too light, as if the omelet rises 
like a souffle it will go down again, so much the 
worse. 

Pour it into a small frying pan, or omelet pan, in 
which is one tablespoonful of the clear part of melted 
butter, and fry like fried eggs. But when partly 
set run a knife point around to loosen it and begin 
and shake the omelet over to the further side of the 
pan until the thin further edge forced upward falls 
back into the omelet. When the under side has a 
good color, and the middle is nearly set, roll the 
brown side uppermost, with a knife to help, and 
slide the omelet on to a hot dish. Serve immedi- 
ately while it is light and soft. 



1145. Omelet with Parsley. 

Mix a tablespoonful of minced parsley with the 
omelet mixture while beating it up. Make as di- 
rected in the preceding article. 



a little lard in a frying-pan with a plate inverted 
upon it. In five minutes take up the minced onion 
without grease and add it to the omelet mixture 
made ready with parsley in it; stir up and fry as 
directed for plain omelet. 

1147. Omelet with Ham. 

Have ready on the table some grated or minced 
lean ham in a dish. Pour a plain omelet of two 
eggs into the frying-pan and strew over the surface 
about a tablespoonful of the grated ham. 



1148. Omelet with Cheese. 

Make in the same manner as ham omelet, with 
grated cheese instead of ham. 



1149. Omelet with Kidneys. 

Have ready a spoonful of kidneys in sauce, the 
same as for patties or minced kidneys. When the 
omelet has been shaken to the further side of the 
pan and is nearly done place the spoonful of kid- 
neys lengthwise in the hollow middle and roll the 
omelet over so as to inclose it. 



1150. Omelet with Chicken Livers. 

By the same method as with kidneys, using 
poultry livers that have been stewed, and cut up 
into a rich sauce. 



1146. Omelet with Onions and Parsley 
Mince two tablespoonfuls of onion and fry^it in 



1151. Oyster Omelet. 

For omelet with oysters see No. 833. For another 
way cut the oysters in pieces in a brown butter 
sauce as follows: 

Put a large half cupful of oysters into a frying- 
pan with their liquor, and salt and pepper, and 
keep them in motion by shaking over the fire until 
they are soft-cooked. Take up with a skimmer and 
cut them in pieces. 

Stir a heaping teaspoonful of sifted flour and 
twice the measure of butter together in a very small 
saucepan over the fire until light brown, add halt 
a cupful of milk and the cooked oyster liquor, if 
any, and when it has boiled up put in the cut 
oysters. Squeezein thejuiceofa quarter of lemon. 
Make an omelet in the usual way and pour the 
oysters in sauce over it. 



1152. Spanish Omelet. 

Stew tomatoes down nearly dry with garlic, 
onions and minced pepper, as detailed for Spanish 
beefsteak, No. 1109, place the preparation in the 
hollow middle of the omelet and roll the edge over 
to inclose it. 



304 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



1153. Omelet -with Tomatoes. 

Stew tomatoes down nearly dry, season with 
butter, pepper and salt. Inclose a spoonful in the 
middle of an omelet according to the preceding ex- 
amples. 



1154. Rum Omelet— For Three or Four. 

C eggs. 

A third as much milk. 

J cupful of rum. 

Powderod sugar. 

Put the eggs and milk and a teaspoonful of 
powdered sugar in a bowl together, and beat enough 
to mix but not to make the omelet too light. Set 
the rum where it will get warm. Put a tablespoon- 
ful of the clear oil of melted butter in the large 
frying-pan, and pour in (he omelet before the pan 
gets hot enough to make it stick on the bottom. An 
omelet should not be cooked through and the brown 
outside rolled in, but should be shaken and shaped 
in the further side of the pan, as soon as the edge 
is cooked enough to fall over from the edge into the 
middle shaken further over, so that the omelet is 
not a cake but a soft cooked mass with thick middle 
and pointed ends. A broad bladed knife is useful 
to help shape it. 

Make an iron wire red hot in the fire. 

When the omelet is done slip it on to a hot dish, 
dredge the top with powdered sugar, mark it with 
bars across with the hot wire laid a moment on the 
sugared top. Pour the rum around and set it on 
fire and send it in. 

The sugaring and marking generally causes too 
much delay for individual omelets in large numbers, 
and has to be omitted in such cases. 



1155. Sweet Omelet with Jelly. 

For individual omelets break for each dish two 
eggs and put into the bowl with them about two 
tablespoonfuls of cream. Beat to mix, but not make 
it too light. Put a tablespoonful of the clear part 
of melted butter into the frying pan, pour in the 



omelet without waiting for the butter to get hot and 
discolored, let cook gradually, shaking it frequently 
to the further side of the pan until the thin edge, 
forced upward, falls over into the middle. When 
it is nicely browned and the upper side just set, 
put currant jelly, or other fruit jelly, in along line 
in the middle that is made hollow for the purpose 
in the side of the pan. Roll ever so as to shut in 
the jelly, slide it smooth side up on to a hot dish. 
Dredge powdered sugar on top and mark it with 
crossbars by touching the sugar with a hot wire. 

1156. Omelet Soufflee. 

It wants slow cooking like a meringue; not too 
much heat. After it has gone down it will be seen 
that the side that was cooked the most went down 
the flattest. 

2 eggs. 

1 small tablespoonful powdered sugar. 

1 teaspoonful of water. 

Extract vanilla, a few drops. 

Put the yolks, sugar and flavor in one bowl, the 
whiles in a larger one. Mix the yolks around, put 
in a few drops of water and beat till thick and 
foamy. Whip the whites firm enough to bear up an 
egg. Stir the yolks into them without more beat- 
ing. Put a spoonful of clear melted butter into an 
omelet pan and when warm put the omelet in, 
smooth over the top and then if convenient cook it 
in the bottom of a slack oven. If on top of the 
range let it be at one side and hold a red hot shovel 
over the top. Sift powdered sugar over it befor e 
from the fire. Send it in on a dish almost as hot as 
the pan it leaves. 



Omelet Frying Pans. 

It is difficult if not impossible to fry eggs in a 
first-class manner, or to make individual omelets 
without the proper small frying pans, which are 
smallest size made, being no larger than a saucer in 
diameter, and scarcely any deeper. Frying pans 
that are too large for two eggs invariably blacken 
and burn the eggs at the edges. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



3o:> 



ON THE ART OF CATERING. 



First Principles. 

It is the intention in these articles not to lay 
down auy new laws upon so difficult a subject but 
to state the principal points made by the best au- 
thorities, the several questions of how many courses, 
how many dishes, how many wines and when to 
serve them admitting of endless discussion, for while 
there are certain established forms sanctioned by 
long usage and therefore safe for the inexperienced 
to adopt, some people grow restive under a set rule 
and inquire hoif far they may deviate without in- 
curring dissentient criticism. Taking the wine 
question, the established custom, if the term may 
be used, is lo begin the courses of a dinner with 
sherry or Madeira, or both, and end with cham- 
pagne; the first, apparently, because the custom of 
taking Madeira after soup was introduced into 
France by Prince Talleyrand, and thus entered into 
the fashionable forms which have never been wholly 
controverted; the other only because a sweet wine 
has been conceded to be proper for the finish, and 
champagne has seemed the most available as well 
as the greatest favorite. But all champagne is not 
sweet. Under modern dinner customs another wine 
may be required before the Madeira, and possibly 
another draught after the champagne. One author- 
ity speaks of a banquet with thirty kinds of wine, 
"from Burgundy to Tokay," and imagines a dinner 
bo prolonged by the pleasures of eating and of con- 
versation that there would be no fixed datafor find- 
ing what time might elapse between "the first glass 
of Madeira and the last tumbler of punch," and still 
speaks of an ideal humble, but most enjoyable din- 
ner with a half bottle of Madeira for two; another 
with some wine of the classical "Manlius vintage," 
and, again, a dinner with half-a-dozen friends re- 
galed on a leg of mutton and a kidney washed down 
with "some Orleans and excellent Medoc;" the 
same as saying that it matters little what the kind 
of wine may be when there is but one or even two, 
furlher than that the light wine should be served 
first. 

For artistic, even scientific, dining is achieved 
through the observance bf rules based on certain 
principles of which they who dine have not generally 
the first control, nor the direct opportunity of car- 
rying out; they depend upon the executive officer 
who serves the meal. And the object in view is not 
the mere satisfaction of a keen appetite, although 
an appetite is the first requisite to enjoyment, but 
through that to gratify the finest sense of taste, to 
lead on from the commoner to the better, with small 
morsels of each dish, by courses, at each change to 
present new combinations of different viands and 
varied flavors; not to satiate with the first dish nor 
the first wine, but to bad on and prolong. That 



was the Roman idea of luxurious living and one of 
the most famous cooks of history is commemmorated 
as having become so skillful in serving courses that 
were each lighter, finer, more etherial than that 
which went before that the meals were never ended 
but a new appetite for substantials was experienced 
before the last flavored trifle was removed. Such 
have been the patterns for modern epicurism for 
those who seek the same exalted degree of gratifi- 
cation for the sense of taste as some do for the other 
senses. In the ancient models of conviviality all 
the senses were gratified at once, with music, with 
beautiful objects, with rare perfumes and divans of 
swan's down and velvet, but the sense of taste gave 
the occasion and was master of the ceremonies, for 
the banquet was the motive of all. In the endeavor 
to bring the art of catering for the appetite within 
the bounds of such exact rules as all cultivated arts 
are subject to, certain principles are laid down, such 
as, "In eating, the order is from the more substan- 
tial to the lighter. In drinking, the order is from 
the milder to that which is stronger and of finer 
flavor. 



How To Drink Wine. 

The following study shows how finely the sensa- 
tions of taste have been analyzed in this pursuit. 

"In drinking wine there is a pleasant but still 
imperfect sensation so long as it is in the mouth, 
it is only when swallowed that we can really taste 
and appreciate the special flavor and boquet of each 
variety, and a little time mu9t elapse before the 
connoisseur can say, 'Itis good,' 'middling,' or 'bad;' 
'By Jove I 'tis genuine Chambertin,' or, 'Confound 
it ! it is only Surene I' 

"In conformity with these principles, and result- 
ing from a well-understood experience, is that habit 
which all true connoisseurs have of sipping their 
wine, for each time they swallow they have the 
sum total of the sensation enjoyed had they taken 
the whole glass at one draught." And again: "A 
drunkard knows not how to drink, and he who eats 
too much, or too frequently, knows not how to 
eat." 

The sipping and tasting.not rapid drinking.which 
constitutes the deferent duty of the guest in this 
reciprocal matter is minutely described by another 
student of the art of dining as follows: 

The art of drinking wine is unknown except at 
Bordeaux, for with the Bordelaisit is an art, and it 
is quite a sight to witness the operation. The but- 
ler, with a serious air, announces, on pouring it, 
"Chateau Giscourt," or "Lascombe," or "Margaux 
of 1849." The guest silently takes the glass between 
his thumb and forefinger, raises it to a level with 
his eye, and with a slight movement of the elbow 
gives the wine a rotary movement. This sets free 
the aroma. He sniffs the perfume circulating on 
the edge of the glass, loo^s at the ruby color scintil- 



300 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



ating ill the glass, then drinks it off deliberately in 
small installments. Silence follows; the guests look 
at each other; the host has an anxious air, await- 
ing the verdict; then opinions are given in turn in 
a serious tone, and the wealth of adjectives 
at the command of a Bordelais is revived. If the 
judgment is unfavorable, the wine is declared as 
rebelle, dur, sans ame, deplaisanle, choquant, anlipa- 
thiquc, impcratif. If, on the contrary the judgment 
is fovorable, eyes sparkle and the wine is styled 
aimable, gracieux,seduisant, passionnant, elegant, riche, 
fier, grand, beau, doux, parfume, insinuant, coquet, 
ravissant, incomparable, plien <f amour. 

If this fine and critical judgment was not culti- 
vated in some quarters the motive for maturing 
wine by years of keeping would be lost, for any sort 
of beverage would be acceptable to those who, like 
the sailor, on being told that the glass poured out 
for him was very old wine, would remark that it 
was very small of its age, and it is in consideration 
of this undiscriminating eagerness that is apt to be 
exhibited by anyone at the beginning of a meal that 
the commoner wines are served first and the best 
kept until last, and champagne may be the best in 
most cases; if of a choice and rare brand it may be 
that there is really nothing better, hence the cus- 
tom of ending with champagne. It is the preroga- 
tive of the possessors of fine cellars to be able to end 
with something else. There are light champagnes 
that are more appropriate for the earlier courses of 
a dinner than for the close. 

Wines in Courses. 

"To maintain," says a high authority, "that a 
man must not change his wine is a heresy; the 
palate becomes cloyed, and, after three or four 
glasses, it is but a deadened sensation that even the 
best wine produces. The art of catering teaches 
how to put the wines on the table in such order as 
to produce for the guests an enjoyment constantly 
increasing up to the point where pleasure ends and 
abuse begins " Such being the object in view its 
attainment is a matter of more consequence than the 
observance of conventional usages in the order of 
the names of wines. 

It was observed some years since that the vice- 
royalty of Canada was sanctioning a rule in the 
serving of wines somewhat different from the gener- 
ally accepted mode and inquiry led to the ascertain- 
ment that the master of ceremonies based his pro- 
cedure upon the following rule: 

With fish or soup use sherry or Sauterne. 

With roast meat use hock and claret. 

With turtle use punch. 

With whitebait use champagne. 

With game use port or Burgundy. 

Between the roast and confectionery use sparkling 
wines. 

With sweets use Madeira. 



With dessert use port, Tokay, Madeira, sherry, or 
claret. 

Ice is never put in red wines even in summer. 
Burgundy should be slightly warmed. Claret-cup 
and champagne-cup should always be iced, and 
these are the only two wines in which ice is used. 
Every kind of wine has its different glass ; cham- 
pagne glasses for champagne only; goblets for claret 
and Burgundy; ordinary wine glasses for sherry 
and Madeira; green glasses for hock; large bell- 
shaped glasses for port. Port, sherry, and Madeira 
are decanted in the late style, but hock and 
champagne appear in their native bottles. Claret 
and Burgundy are always handed around in claret 
jugs- 

That certainly seems to give latitude enough for 
the use of any sort of wine, and taking whitebait, a 
fish not known in this country, but comparable to 
small trout fried, for the admission, champagne may 
be used with fish. 

In close connection with the above it is to be ob- 
served that new opinions are occasionally advanced 
and new deviations made on the other side of the 
Atlantic whose impressions are too quiet to at once 
strike the general observation. A certain master of 
ceremonies, once of the Paris Jockey Club, once of 
the Queen of England's household, put forth just 
such a set of rules as that above found not very long 
ago, but whether he learned from the palace or the 
palace from him. and whether the Paris Jockey Club 
should be considered as leading or following, are 
matters not to be determined. What he says is in 
these words, first quoting a learned French doctor's 
general remarks upon the use of wine in any case; 

"For persons far advanced in years, old wine, in 
small quantities, is always to be preferred; taken in 
such a way it is a valuable tonic, but when taken in 
anything approaching excess, it loses all its benefi- 
cial effects. 

"To those fortunate individuals in the prime of 
life who are gifted with a powerful constitution, I 
would recommend but a very sparing use of wine, 
and only of the lighter kinds. 

"Where there is a chronic tendencyto weakness, 
there will wine first manifest its injurious effects; 
thus in the same way as a weak sight suffers from 
too much light or wind, will it suffer from the 
use of alcoholic stimulants, and manifest the fact 
by inflamed and bloodshot eyes. 

"My object is not to recommenced in all such 
cases the total abstinence from wine, but merely 
to advise its discreet use and judicious selection." 

Thus far the physician, next the master of cere- 
monies: 

In a general way, wine may be said to have the 
following influence on our frame. A light clear 
wine, with but little color and alcohol, gives a 
wholesome fillip to the circulation; a full-bodied and 
alcoholic wine, on the contrary, is rather calculated 
to make it sluggish. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



307 



A Parisian Authority. 

"Having had many opportunities of testing the 
most pleasant mode of serving wiue at dinner and 
its most successful order of procedure I think it well 
to give a few hints ou the subject. 

"After the soup and fish, sherry, Madeira or 
Marsala are frequently served; but I would advise 
selecting lighter wines sn 'li as Sauterne, Graves, 
Chablis, Pouilly, Meursault or Montrachet; all these 
wines, as well as light champagnes, which can with 
advantage be served at this stage of a dinner, should 
be very cool. 

"Such wines do not clog the appetite, as stronger 
wines would do, but, on the coutrary, they give i^ 
a gentle fillip, and endow it with new vigor. 

"Comparing a dinner to a brilliant orchestral 
composition, it strikes me very forcibly that, if, at 
the very first bars, I am deafened by the big drum, 
the double bass, and the trombone, I shall no longer 
be able to appreciate the sweet melodies which are 
about to follow. Similarly, if, at the beginning of a 
meal, my host is too persistent in helping me to full- 
bodied wines, he will deaden my palate, take otT 
the edge of my appetite, and prevent my appreci" 
ating the delicacy of the cookery. 

"At the beginning of a dinner, therefore, have 
only the lighter kinds of wine; with the roast serve 
those which have more body; they will prepare the 
palate for the more delicate wines which should fol- 
low, namely, such 'Burgundies as Gorton, Clos- 
Vougeot, Romanee-Conti, and Pomard; or such as 
some of the undermentioned clarets: St. Julien, 
Chateau La Rose, Leoville, Lafitte, and Chateau- 
Margaux.' 

"With dessert serve the following sweet wines: 
Malaga, Alicant, Rivesaltes, Malmsey, Lacbryma- 
Christi, Constance, Tokay, and the higher brands of 
champagne, iced. 

"My directions for serving wine will probably 
be criticised; but I would beg of those who differ 
from me to judge the question on its own merits: if 
the art of the cook is to provoke appetite without 
overtaxing the digestive organs, surely that of he 
who boasts of a good cellar is to induce his friends 
to drink without endangering their sobriety? 

"I consider it bad taste to serve too many differ- 
ent kinds of wines; variety without profusion should 
be the aim; and quality should be the very first 
consideration, not only for the higher class wines, 
but principally for the more common descriptions 
of vins ordinaires, which, as they are most used 
during the meal, should be selected with propor- 
tionate care. 

"Lastly, the following directions should be at- 
tended to before serving the different wines: 

'Vin ordinaire should be served in claret jugs, 
and very cool; in winter it will be sufficient to 
bring it direct from the cellar, when w nted; in 



summer it should be very slightly iced, or put to 
cool in spring water. 

"Claret of a choice vintage should be brought 
from the cellar a few hours before it is required; so 
that it may become of the same temperature as the 
dining room; it is a mistake to imagine that putting 
it before the fire improves it. 

"Burgundy is best when cool, by which I do not 
mean cold ; for, should the weather be very cold, it 
will be improved by being kept in the dining room 
some little time before it is served. 

"Champagne, on the contrary, is never so good as 
when it is iced; icing brings out all its latent quali- 
ties; and your guests, when they drink it, will find 
therein the necessary eloquence to praise worthily 
the efforts made to please them." 

Such are the amplifications and explanations of 
the concise set of rules before repeated, and they 
will be found to be in accordance although the 
sources of authority may appear to be so far remov- 
ed; and, from first to last, from the prolonged feasts 
of the ancients to the most artistically devised ban- 
quets of the present, the scheme of catering has been 
for the utmost gratification of a refined sense with- 
out excess in anything. 

An authority in American society says, 'If three 
wines are seived, let them be a choice sherry with 
the soup, claret with the first course after the fish, 
and champagne with the roast. If a fourth is de- 
sired there is no better selection than a Chateau 
Yquem, to be served with an entree. If champagne 
alone is used serve it just after the fish. Many 
serve claret during the entire dinner, it matters not 
how many other varieties may be served; others do 
the same with champagne — for the benefit of the 
ladies, they say. I believe, however, champagne is 
considered with more disfavor every day." 



Refreshments at Ball Suppers. 

There are other occasions besides dinners, how- 
ever, when the judicious method of serving bever- 
ages must be considered, as there are places where 
wine must not enter. A witty writer in a society 
paper made the sly remark the other day that in a 
new game of forfeits the young men who lose are 
compelled to bring a glass of water to the lady at 
the next ball, that being the hardest thing to obtain. 
No person can be said to be proficient in the art of 
catering who is not equal to this difficulty and is 
unable to furnish a sufficiency of that agreeable 
fluid, lighter than the lightest wine and less de- 
structive to the appetite than the most delicate dish. 
The quicker perception of the needs of the occasion 
experienced by those accustomed to the course of 
the festivities by partaking of them frequently was 
shown in the preparations for a private party that 
has but just passed into the region of the bye-gones, 
when, for a refreshment to be handed around to 
the dancers an hour previous to the supper, a frozen 



308 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



marachino punch was determined upon, that which 
one of Thackeray's characters describes as having a 
flavor as seductive as the smiles of beauty, and it 
was intended to take the place of the proposed 
claret cup and lemonade, excluding everything but 
water. But the host observing, said that would 
never do; there should be frozen maraschino 
punch, of course, but there must be cool lemonade 
as well. 



Pattern for a Dinner in Courses. 

For an example of the safe pattern of a dinner 
served in courses the following is appended. It is 
the menu of an actual dinner served on a private 
occasion somewhere in New York. As a dinner 
menu it is good, excepting the affectation of a foreign 
language for an American party, and in size fur- 
nishes a convenient specimen. Whoever deviates 
from (he regular track must consider whether any 
eyes are likely to be critical of the performance. It 
is something the same in planning a pretentious 
menu as in beginning a game of chess. There are 
certain well known safe openings which the timid 
player may follow, but the powerful masters of the 
game may indulge in brilliant eccentricities with 
equal safety: 

Clams 

Chateau Sauternes 



POTAOE. 

Printaniere Princesse 

Amontillado 



POISSON 

Sea Bass a la Maitre d' Hotel 
Concombres Pommes Nouvelles 



RELEVE. 

Filet de Boeuf pique, aux Champignons 
Choux-fleurs 

Chateau Lamarque 



ENTREE. 

Ris de Veau aux Petits Pois 
Asperges 



Punch Romaine. 



ROTI. 



Grass Plovers ou Toast au Cresson 
Salade de Laitue 

Veuve Cliquot, Yellow Label 

DESSERT. 

Creme Napolitaine. 

Fraises Fromage 

Petits Fours Desserts Assortis 



The Explanation. 

Clams — raw on the shell served with half a 
lemon, this being a May dinner, and Sauternewine. 
Soup — Spring, or green vegetable (asparagus heads, 
peas, etc.), with a little rice in whole grains, 
Amontillado is the name of a brand of light sherry. 
Fish — sea bass, probably boiled, and maitre d'hotel 
sauce poured over in the dish, with cucumbers and 
new potatoes to complete the course. Thereleve or 
remove, as many menus have it, equivalent to the 
roasted or boiled joint of ordinary dinners, is 
tenderloin of beef larded, roasted and served with 
mushrooms in sauce, the vegetable to go with it is 
cauliflower. The wine, Chateau Lamarque, is one 
of the higher class of French wines, a claret. Entree 
— sweetbreads with green peas, probably larded 
and braised; the accompanying vegetable in this 
course is aspnragus. Then comes Roman punch. 
Next comes the rati, meaning roast meat in general, 
but in a menu meaning game in particular, the 
English heading would be "game, ' for which the 
French word is gibier. That also sometimes appears 
instead of roti. The dish is roast grass plover, 
roasted over toast and the trail spread upon it, on 
which the birds are placed and water cress around, 
in the dish. Lettuce salad completes this course, 
and the wine between it and the dessert is cham- 
pagne, and the last wine that is served. The last 
course consists of Neapolitan ice cream, strawber- 
ries, (/raises) cheese, (fromage) fancy small cakes, 
(petits fours) and desserts assortis includes such 
things as fruits, figs, raisins and nuts. 

Where the clams are written in this early sum- 
mer menu, oysters on the shell would be found in 
winter; only four, five or six are served to each 
plate, and they are supposed to increase the appe- 
tite for dinner instead of allaying it. The soup 
will be but a few spoonfuls, perhaps a third of a 
plate, the real dinner begins with the fish and the 
beef is the substantial part: the punch served in 
punch glasses gives an interval, and is supposed to 
renew the appetite for the acceptance of the dainty 
morsel under the head of roti, where vegetables 
would have no attraction, but a cool, refreshing 
salad takes the place as the accompaniment. The 
rest are but light sweets and pastimes. 



American Plan, or Table d'Hote. 

The best form of dinner is, however, the present 
American plan dinner, or, as the French call it, 
table d'hote It is the only plan that is universally 
adaptable to either the smallest or largest num- 
bers, either to the family dinner of four or five in- 
dividuals or to the largest hotel with as many hun- 
dreds. The dinner served in single courses may 
be the dinner of wealth and culture, for occasions 
iof ceremony and display, but none pretends that it 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



300 



is the meal of the greatest enjoyment. It requires 
a knowledge of gastronomy and epicurism on the 
part of the partakers that is not common in this 
couutry, and is not cultivated with any conspicu- 
ous degree of interest, a fact which it is common 
fashion to deplore, but without reason. Our peo- 
ple are too much interested in more active matters 
to resolve themselves into communities of profes- 
sional eaters. They have the keenest enjoyment 
for good things to eat and drink, but prefer the en. 
joyment without the study. Let the stewards and 
cooks prepare the feast and the guests will do it 
justice if it is good and criticise or leave it if it is 
not, after a free fashion that is not admissable at a 
course dinner, where each person is expected to 
partake of every course, if not to eat it at least to 
pretend to do so and consume time while others 
do. 

It is the American plan that needs to be cultiva- 
ted, developed, improved by the grafting upon it of 
the peculiar excellences of the purely artistic din. 
ner ss well as the sociability of the family table. It 
already has such advantages in its favor as that it 
demands the highest degree of efficiency in the ca- 
terer and skill in the cook, and at the same time 
affords the means to pay sufficient compensation to 
secure them. Very few private parties can afford 
to pay what hotels and restaurants pay, consequently 
very few can enjoy the products of the best trained 
proficiency unless they go to one or the other of 
such establishments. Very few can afford to order 
at the highest class restaurants and give carte 
blanche, that is, leave it to the caterer to do his best 
without regard to the cost, and if they cannot they 
must stay within the bounds of ordering according 
to their own limited knowledge of dishes and com- 
binations and their own ideas of the money value 
of the gratification desired. Those who dine at 
American plan tables do that in regard to pay, but 
they receive, according to what rate they pay, an 
amount, a variety, a style of cookery and service 
that could scarcely be obtained without a vast ex- 
penditure at a cafe, and in private houses is practi- 
cally impossible. 

Accordingly, these who have become accustomed 
to the best hotel tables are the most fastidious and 
critical diners in the world. They get the best, and 
soon learn to be exacting enough to be satisfied 
with nothing less. The viands that are prepared 
at some establishment at a distance and transported 
to the house of the private party would be criti- 
oised by the habitues of the highest class hotels as 
having been too long from the fire. They have 
their shell fish served direct from the refrigerators; 
their soups perfect, at a few minutes after the cook 
has bestowed the last touch of attention to their ap- 
pearance; their meats, with the hot juices at the 
steaming point; their sauces, with the velvety ap 
pearance they have when fresh made; their souffles, 



light, distended, puffed up, but a minute from the 
oven; their pastry, absolutely fresh and new; their 
ices, when most perfect, without the mishaps and 
deteriorations of long waits. 

The rolls served out by thousands of dozens by 
the bakers would be spurned by our exacting hotel 
guests as cold bread. They demand them fresh 
baked and hot. Fancy bread, muffins, waffles and 
all of those kinds are found in full variety and fresh 
made perfection only in American plan hotels. For 
these reasons those who regularly live at American 
plan hotels live better as regards good eating than 
any other people in the world, and know more in a 
practical way about dishes and cookery, and the 
flavors and qualities of the different edibles, but do 
not know and are not interested in the tecnicalities 
of cooking and catering. If any people fare badly 
at an American plan table they are the strangers to 
whom the method is new, but they are notoriously 
the most easily pleased at first and as they in turn 
learn to be critical they also learn how to avail 
themselves of all the advantages. 



The Highest Praise of a Cook. 

The highest praise of a cook ever printed ap. 
peared in the new French cook's journal very re- 
cently. It was but a sentence referring to the 
chief cook of one of the most celebrated catering es- 
tablishments in this country, but it said that in 
over two thousand menus of his preparation that 
were under review there was not two alike. It 
was depressing to find another journal in the same 
line soon after repeating the commonplace part of 
the compliment that would fit any man and leaving 
out the essential point and pith. The ability to 
produce so large a number of blls of fare and never 
two exactly alike implies and includes all the 
knowledge of all the resources of the arts of cater- 
ing and cooking that anybody can possess. If a 
cook builds up a fine ornamental center piece of 
figures moulded in tallow or wax it is pretty, hut it 
is nothing because other artists can do better in 
plaster of Paris or metal. It does not make the 
eatable better; it does not advance the art of cook- 
ery; it does 'not help small hotels nor private 
houses; it is not practical art. But the art of pro 
ducing variety and of making common things good 
and attractive is what the cooks are at present most 
deficient in and that most needs to be cultivated. 
There is an existing consciousness of the value of 
the power of constant variation but it has led to 
some very wrong notions and to some great absur- 
dities in exhibition that are peculiar to American 
plan hotels, not being possible anywhere else, such 
as the crowding of unreasonable numbers of dishes 
on the bill of fare. The use of knowing how to cook 
everything in every manner is not to put it all into 
one dinner but to be able to make a dinner out of 



;uo 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



anything. To join much of the cheap with a little 
of the dear, not to make the dear article the worse 
by it but to help it and make both things the better 
by the combination. It is to know so many good 
ways and good combinations and so many ways of 
making people like it that when any particular thing 
is cheap and abundant that article can be used in 
large quantities, and when it becomes less obtain- 
able the use of varied knowledge is to ta' e up some- 
thing else and provide equally as good meals with- 
out it. The opposite of all this is the helplessness 
that knows but a few dishes and can do nothing 
without a plentiful supply of certain articles that 
may be very difficult to obtain. The American plan 
cannot be the most money-making plan without the 
exercise of this faculty of change and adaptability 
on the part of the cooks, neither can it give the 
highest enjoyment to the lovers of good living, for 
a reasonable, intelligently regulated variation of the 
dishes is an essential matter. The peculiar demands 
of the American plan hotels are leading to their 
providers, caterers, stewards, cooks, pastry cooks 
and bakers being the best in the world and accord- 
ing to their grade they offer already the all-powerful 
inducement to the study of excellence, the highest 
pay for the most varied skill. The cook who can 
do but a few things, make but a dozen or two of 
dishes or articles, and is stepped and made useless 
by every little scarcity is not in much demand. 
The crowding of a great number of dishes in one 
bill of fare is not a evidence of varied knowledge. 
Most of the bills that contain ten or a dozen entrees 
at a time if examined day after day or Sunday after 
Sunday are found to contain the same few things 
everlastingly repeated. 



The Restaurant Dinner. 

There are hotel men who grow tired of trying to 
give so much in such good style under the Ameri- 
can plan for so little pay and they say the restaur- 
ant plan after all is the only way to make profit. It 
restrains the hoggish wasteful eater wonderfully to 
see his check by the side of his plate growing to 
larger denominations at even pace with the disten- 
teusion of his stomach. But it is difficult to keep 
up a place strictly on that plan, and there are few 
restaurants that do not find it necessary to adopt 
more or less of the plan of offering a regular meal 
for a certain sum total. This is the popular plan 
and the popular demand, for, as Borne one jocularly 
remarks: "0, the table d'hotes are a boon to men 
who are more certain of their own idea of desirable 
expenditure than they are ot their companion's ap- 
pctitt. There is a charming definiteness about a 
meal for $1.25, claret included, that offsets an oc- 
casional disappointment in the viands. Dining 
rooms on this plan have multiplied in number and 
popularity within a year or two There used to be 



an Italian restaurant on Fourteenth street famous 
for the abundance of the dinner which it offered for 
$1 only." 

But there is an epicurean class of customers to 
whom the question of expense is not a consideration 
and restaurants or cafes of the highest class thrive 
and high class cooking is done wherever there is 
enough of this class of patronage to warrant the 
outlay of the requisite means to serve the meals 
luxuriously. This field is very limited, for the 
particular c'ass of customers soon form clubs, pro- 
cure the best caterers and cooks and set up their 
own menage and the restaurateur seeks business 
among the wealthy dinner-givers at their own 
houses. The largest cities support only two or thiee 
completely equipped establishments of this sort, 
although every town with the least pretense to 
society has need of a public caterer, and because 
there are so few that really understand the business 
puts up with the assistance of the confectioner or 
baker or the village busybody who knows how to 
make ham sandwiches and picnic lemonade. In 
every town there are people li'te some city c'ub 
members, who do not agree with the fashionable 
plan of a dinner in many courses with small por- 
tions of each, but if a delicacy be in store hold it 
best to attack it with the keenest appetite, enjoy it 
to the utmost, eat but little else at that meal and 
for the next seek something new. The establish- 
ment that caters to their requirements needs to 
adopt the same means for procuring the newest and 
rarest viands that a newspaper does for news. 
Leaving out the few exceptional establishments 
kept up by parties who do not need to count the 
cost, the general run of restaurants do not train 
their caterers and cooks to the perfection that 
hotels do, their business being so nearly like mer- 
chandising. 

They call into exercise but a small part of the 
resources of the art of cookery for they make only 
such dishes as will sell and cannot set a table above 
the level of their customers' apprehension as Ameri- 
can plan hotels can, and as good hotels constantly 
do. When a restaurant keeper can buy an article 
of cooked provision cheaper than he can get it 
made in his own house he does so, and when he 
says it is useless to make or prepare any kind of 
dish because he cannot sell it there is an end of 
effort in that direction. But people who eat con- 
stantly at a table d'hote where there is a new bill of 
fare each day become familiar in time with every 
kind of dish and insensibly become learned in the 
arts of catering and cooking. 



French Terms. 

None but a very few of the more exclusive sort of 
hotels can now afford to use French terms in their 
printed bills of faro, and it is of doubtful expedi- 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



311 



ency even for them unless the menus are entirely 
French. That which was, perhaps, a good enough 
fashion once has become vulgarized like any past 
fashion in dress by every class of incompetent imita- 
tors trying it on and producing frightful effects. It 
is not well to be pragmatical in such a matter nor 
cultivate a sort of Franco-phobia, to cry out when- 
ever a French word appears in a menu, for there 
are questions of taste involved and some know when 
and how to gain an advantage in that way. Such 
great novelists as Charlotte Bronte, Thackeray and 
Bulwer Lytton incurred lasting censure for indulg- 
ing in the pedantic weakness of putting whole dia- 
logues and whole pages of French in the middle of 
their books, that of course the vast majority of their 
readers could not understand and were much an 
noyed; and still, an occasional foreign word slipped 
in by the best writers seems to be thought rather 
rather ornamental than otherwise, besides being 
sncb. an evident relief to the writers themselves who 
have more knowledge than they can possibly hold 
in. The plan and method used in introducing 
dishes more or less peculiar to other countries into 
England and America, with the principal thing 
named in English but the technical terms and the 
affixed style in French worked well when tha cooks 
and stewards happened to be educated people. But, 
unfortunately, most of those who wrote the bills of 
fare did not read but only put down the words as 
they sounded when they heard them repeated, and 
the nonsense thus produced could not be set right 
by the printers, who always correct everybody's 
bad spelling except Josh Billings', when it is in 
English, but who are not expected to understand 
cooking terms. 

As these cooks and stewards did not know the 
meaning of the terms which they could not even 
spell, they could not know much about the dishes 
that belonged to the terms, and traveling people 
and regular boarders alike soon learned that every 
dish that had a French name in the hill of fare was 
sure not to be fit to eat and that the whole hotel 
French entree list was a fraud and a farce. This 
has brought a good deal of undeserved odium upon 
French cookery among people who have gained 
their impressions of it in that way, and has done 
harm to the hotel business, so that even in the ho- 
tels where they are as near correct with their 
French terms and entrees as any one not really 
French ever gets to be, still the public feels the 
same suspicion and takes plain beef and turkey. 
Hotel keepers, therefore, very generally are doing 
away with the French ridiculousness and are stat- 
ing what they have for dinner in plain language, 
and when they cannot find suitable English terms to 
tell how a thing is cooked they let it go without, and 
encourage their patrons to take the reputation of 
their table for the assurance that the dish is good 
anyway. Lest any reader may think he will be 



lacking in style i r he write his bill of fare in Eng- 
lish, here is what a high Washington authority 
wrote about it a few years ago: 

"It is a pity that our own rich language is inade- 
quate to the duties of a fashionable bill of fare. I 
would say that some tact might be displayed in 
choosing which language to employ. If you are 
entertaining a company of foreign embassadors, 
use unhesitating the French bills of fare (all 
French), but practical uncles and substantial per- 
sons of learning and wit, who, perhaps, do not ap- 
preciate the merits of languages which they do 
understand, might consider you demented to place 
one of these effueions b fore them- I would advise 
the English bills of fare on these occasions." 



An American Plan Dinner. 



SADDLE ROCK OYSTERS. 



Cream of Asparagus 



Consomme Royal 



hors d'csuvres. 
Sliced cucumbers Small Patties Sliced Tomatoes 



FISH. 

Fillet of Striped Bass, Italian Sauce 
Potatoes Hollandaise 



REMOVES. 

Boiled Capon, Celery Sauce 
Roast Spring Lamb, Mint Sauce 
Roast Sirloin of Beef, Brown Gravy 
Roast Saddle of Veal, with Dressing 

Roast Ducklings, and Fresh Green Peas 



Claret Punch. 



SALADS. 

Lettuce Shrimp Potato 



Lobster 



ENTREES. 

Croquettes of Sweetbreads, and Mushrooms 
Supreme of Chicken, with Truffles 

Stewed Eggs, Alsascian Sauce 

French Pancakes, with Jelly 

VEGETABLES. 

Fresh Asparagus Fresh Green Peas 

Stewed Tomatoes String Beans 

Boiled Potatoes Mashed Potatoes 



DESSERT 

Steamed Fruit Pudding, Brandy Sauce 

Apricot Pie Cream Meringue Pie Mixed Cake 

Maraschino Jelly Philadelphia Ice Cream 

Fruits Crackers Cheese 



FRENCH COFFEE. 



Galt House, Louisville, Ky , 
March 25, 1883. 



312 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



Service. 

It seems li'-ie a species of irony to speak of the 
highest possibilities of excellence in furnishing a 
table with choice things to eat and drink in pres- 
ence of a large number of hotels with whose pro- 
prietors the question of how to get what is due to 
them for board furnished at the lowest possible rate 
to their slow-paying customers is all the engrossing 
one, and the talk about high-priced rarities ordered 
from a distance, and high-priced cooks to prepare 
them skillfully, seems more like fancy sketches of 
free spreads furnished by private wealth than prac- 
tical business matters. Perfection in any depart- 
ment is only reached in a few places, if ever, but 
there is always some degee of excellence that it 
pays to achieve in every situation. It is probably 
'as essential in the hotel business as any other that 
the man should take an active interest in his occu- 
pation to make a success of it. As everybody must 
eat, whatever is true as regards one place muBt be 
true for any other according to grade, and the pro- 
viding and cooking is not everything. The beef 
may be roasted perfectly in the smallest house, and 
coffee be made as good as in the largest, and bread 
and potatoes, which are by themselves such cheap 
articles of diet that the restaurant keepers find they 
can almost give them away if they but get pay for 
the meats, can be cooked as perfectly in the poorest 
house as in the richest. But it may be that in the 
poorest ons there is no head waiter and none to 
perform the functions of the office. Perhaps the 
food looks, upon the dishes as if it had been dished 
up with a scoop shovel and hay fork. It may be 
brought in by tidy boys or round armed girls who 
are more amused with their own little affairs all 
over the room than interested in the commonplace 
business of placing knives and spoons, cream and 
sugar, a napkin or plate of bread within reach of 
the guest whom they have tantalized by setting a 
meal before him without the ordinary appliances to 
enable him to eat it, and sailing away into the dis- 
tance never to return. Different sorts of people act 
differently under such circumstances; they hear the 
light hearted creatures singing or whistling in the 
kitchen and one will sit and sulk and mutter; an- 
other will boldly rise and walk to the other end of 
the table, or to the next table, to reach the mustard 
cruet, and then leave it alone because it is stale and 
dirty; another will lay aside the celery he had 
taken up because he cannot reach any salt, stirs up 
his coffee with his knife, and leaves the dining room 
as soon as possible; another hammers a plate with 
his knife, hates himself for it and is hated, but all 
of them regard it as a species of sarcasm in any- 
body to talk about the pleasures and luxuries of an 
American plan hotel — unless they have traveled 
further and seen better specimens. Under such a 
wretched sort of dining room service as that sup- 



posed, good cooking is thrown away. So with liberal 
providing. The writer has seen a house provided 
with early luxuries such as, for instance, strawber- 
ries, or California pears at nine dollars a box, of 
which never more than about a third were actually 
consumed by the guests. The proprietor had a 
steward to atlend to those matters for him, and the 
steward was too good natured for anything, and too 
fearful of being thought stingy to lock up anything. 
The guests were always supplied, but what they ate 
cost somewhere near twenty-five dollars a box. 

The furnishing of occasional treats of things 
newly come in season is a borrowing of one of the 
principal attractions of the restaurant plan, and 
the experienced caterer does not expect it to pay the 
expense on the instant, but with a further tempor- 
ary adoption of that plan of serving very little else 
beside the special article, and with a very proper 
degree of what is called stinginess, to see that it 
reaches those it is intended for, a great deal of this 
kind of attractiveness may be employed with profit- 
able results. 

The fear of being called stingy is one of the chief 
obstacles in the way of profitable hotel-keeping.and 
everybody except the very well bred is ready to 
hurl the epithet. There was a hotel keeper in a 
good sized town in the interior, a thriving county 
seat with but two hotels, whose method of table 
management brought upon him more than the usual 
amount of derogatory remarks and small witticisms, 
it being one of the chief points against him that the 
portions served on the dishes were so small that to 
order from his bill of fare was but a delusion, a 
man had to eat everything that was set before him, 
and call for it all in order to get enough; and an- 
other was that the newspapers were seldom without 
his advertisements for some description of help, 
leading to the inference that he was a hard task 
master. There is every reason for believing, not- 
withstanding the gossip, that he conducted his house 
upon the most correct principles and in the only 
way that a good hotel could be kept and make 
money in the place. The writer shared somewhat 
in the common prejudice and never saw him but 
once, at a distance — a white-haired old gentleman 
in broadcloth — but seeing from time to time how 
new parties took the only other hotel, with new 
spurts of energy aud new promises to mi\ke it the 
only first class house, and seeing them all as surely 
fail, while the white-haired old gentleman kept on 
the even tenor of his way, paying everybody, own- 
ing his house, which bears his own name, and prac- 
tically monopolizing the hotel business of his town, 
has led to the belief that all the gossip was but the 
malice of ignorance and the hotel keeper had his 
business upon a scientific basis. 

To dish up small, and yet not absurdly small, is 
the hardest thing a man has to trian his hands in. 
The table d'hote diuner is a failure, however, where 



THE AMERICAN COCK. 



313 



(he rule cannot be enforced. This style of dinner 
is based upon the same princip'es as the dinner of 
luxury and ceremony described in the first of these 
papers, in which there is a succession of viands in 
small portions, and the appetite is not to be ap- 
peased upon the first courses alone, but led on with 
enjoyment for the entire "square meal." 

There is a mutual interest and should be a tacit 
understanding between host and boarder in this re- 
gard The boarder wants the lowest possible rate, 
and he would be horrified at the thought of having 
food presented to him that had already been served 
once or several times to others and returned; but if 
he and each one has two or three times as much set 
before him as he can eat, either he must pay for 
much more than he needs or the hotel keeper must 
fail in business. It is much more sensible for a 
person to have to order some dish that specially 
suits him two or three times replenished than 10 
have before him half a dozen full dishes of articles 
that he does not want. 

Conclusions. 

ihe term caterer has been employed in making 
these observation as being more comprehensive 
than steward. There may be no steward in the 
house but still some one must be caterer or pro 
vider. Frequently the duly is shared by several, as 
the head cook and the proprietor, or his son, or 
some other attache of the house. 

The caterer must know how to cook. Actual 
practice may not be necessary, but he should know 
all there is to be known about it short of that. 

The public caterer or restaurateur must know all 
about cooking, buying, articles in season, and the 
next to be. He must be able to say what kind of a 
meal or banquet can be furnished for any stated 
sum, therefore he must know what every dish 
costs, in an average way, per one person or per one 
hundred. He knows how many hours or days it 
will take the coo s to prepare anything ordered; 



how much expense for fire and light; how much 
inevitable waste and shrinkage in provisions, and 
the proper charge to be made for use and wear and 
tear of silverware >-nd china, teaming and attend- 
ance, and how many waiters are needed for a stated 
number. 

The hotel caterer must know how good a meal 
can be furnished for a certain price, and to arrive 
at it must in like manner know the cost of piovU- 
ions and the amouut necessary for a given number 
of people, and make allowance for wear and tear, 
laundry expenses, service, and other matters be- 
longing. 

Following the highest tyle of dinner usages he 
serves small portions, and consequently must pro- 
vide attentive waiters that the guests may have 
their dishes replenished if they wish it. 

Following the same principles in the order of 
dishes, he should take care that the entrees are bet- 
ter than the plain meats, and most particularly 
should encourage excellence in making vegetable 
aud farinaceous dishes and combinations, which 
his figuring shows him are the cheapest and best 
forms of food. Not regarding the pastry aud des- 
sert as a mere superfluity, to be given as an extra 
sort of bounty, but rather as an essential part of a 
complete meal, he shou d see that it is as good as 
the rest of the dinner; that those who eat may de- 
pend upon it for a new pleasure to compensate for 
any self denial they may exercise during the earlier 
courses. The perplexing questions of what to do 
with the waste; how to prevent waste; how to fur- 
nish a meal of several courses and a constant suc- 
cession of good things in such a way that it shall 
cost no more than the pound or two of one thing 
bought at a restaurant; how to get the co-operative 
advantages that ought to accrue from the wholesale 
system of setting a table for a large number, and 
other such problems are only possible of solu- 
tion through a thorough knowledge of the business 
called the art of catering. 




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COMPRISING SPECIMENS OP 

FRENCH, ENGLISH AND AMERICAN MENUS, 

WITH TRANSLATIONS AND COMMENTS. 

Showing how to make up hotel Bills of FarB with all the different 

varieties of soups and consommes in proper rotation, 

and a naw SBt of BntrsBs or madB 

dishes for Bvery flay, 



Being a paet op the "Oven and Range" Series originally published 
in the Daily National Hotel Reporter. 



JESSUP WHITEHEAD. 



-** CHICAGO KM- 

1883. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1882, by Jessup Whitehead, in the 
Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



ALL R1CHTS RESERVED. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR 

At the Office of the Daily National Hotel Reporter, 

78 Fifth Avenue 

chicago, ills. 



ELEOTKOTYrED BY BLOMGBEN BbOB. & Co. TEINTED AND BOUND BY JOHN ANPEIiSON & Co. 

162 auJ 101 Clark Street, UB- 187 N. Peoria Street, 

Chicago. Chicago. 



Soups, Entrees § Bills of Fare. 



1161. The Failure of French Cookery. 

If there be anything still in existe- ce deserving 
the distinctive name of French cookery it has sin- 
gularly failed of making itself understood among 
English speaking people, although it has had a 
hundred years of careful importation and nursing 
among them, with every possible advantage from 
the example of royalty and the fashionable world 
and the ceaseless iteration of the press of the su- 
periority of the French in this department. It is 
a hundred years in the United States since French 
manners and methods were taken up sedulously 
with the intention of complimenting di tinguished 
friends and visitors from that nation, while French 
communities have existed both on the north and 
south: still French cookery remains as much an 
unknown system as ever and has made no percept- 
ible in pression. It is mentioned as an example of 
progress and culture in a journal of recent date 
that whereas some ten years ago only fifteen 
wealthy New York families employed French coo s, 
now there are a hundred and fifty — a great rate of 
progress, truly, both numbers show after the cul- 
ture of a hundred years, and even with that the 
employment of French speaking cooks does not nec- 
essarily imply the adoption of French cookery pure 
and simple. 



Fashionable London and indeed all fashionable 
England employed French cooks because it was un- 
fashionable to do otherwise from fifty to seventy- 
five years ago, but instead of the people being 
eager to adopt so excellent a system the results 
to the contrary were unconscious'y stated a few 
weeks since in a London paper called the Hotel 
World, and the article was copied entire in the 
New York Gastronomer with evident approbation 
that the English cooks know really nothing about 
cooking and that the hotel keepers who wish to set 
good viands before their guests have still to pro- 
cure their cooks from France. And yet there is, as 
there has been since Queen Anne's time, an incor- 



porated cook's company in London, and the truth 
of the newspaper article might be challenged, but 
that it suits our purpose to accept it as a state- 
ment of fact. But whnt has French cookery been 
doing all this time that it has not been universally 
adopted? The inference offered for our acceptance 
is that the people are too stupid to learn to cook. 
The same bewailment of American ignorance and 
stupidity is constantly to be met with when the 
subject of cooking comes up and the same invidious 
comparisons between us and the French in this re- 
gard. But what has French cookery been doing 
all this time that with all its immense advantages 
;t has not reformed us all and made us French in 
our methods and tastes and skill through and 
through, from one end of the land to the other? 
These two peoples have not been too stupid to seize 
upon and improve every other good system and every 
useful idea of any other people, and even without 
the ability to acquire French cookery two great 
nations still eat and live and flourish. As between 
two parties perhaps the fault lies in the lack 
of worth in the system itself. Possibly there is 
nothing now left of what was once known as French 
cookery except a Babel of meaningless terms, and 
French speaking cooks are superior only because 
they are trained in countries where their calling is 
considered as respectable as any that can be named 
and are therefore good cooks without reference to 
their peculiar methods. But assuming that there 
is such a thing and that it is a system of great ex- 
cellence we ought to know why it has failed to 
make itself generally understood. 



It is an accepted axiom that all permanent re- 
forms begin at the bottom, but the attempted re- 
form of French cookery began at the top. Whether 
it was worth adopting or not it was necessary first 
to understand it, and to do that a certain degree of 
education has always been a requisite, and those 
who had the education did not do the cooking and 
have rarely been sufficiently interested in a matter 
of no pratical value to them to study the subject, 



::18 



THE AKLEKICAN COOK. 



wbile the real cooks always have been as they prob- 
ably always will be among those having the least 
ornamental education such as a knowledge of foreign 
languages and the biographies of foreign celebrities. 



Even when French cookery is understood it is 
found to be only partially applicable through the 
differences in taste between different nations of 
people. After all that has been said in favor of 
French cookery and the little mention of German, 
the fact is plain that the latter has the greater hjld 
upon the people of this country through a similar- 
ity of inherited tastes for bread and all farinaceous 
articles and dairy products in preference to spiced 
meats and wine. So much having been written 
vaguely upon these subjects a little useful exper- 
ience of our own may serve to point the meaning. 
The writer chanced to be employed at that recept- 
ive time of life when what we learn is never for 
gotten in a community where the cooking was 
strictly and thoroughly a la Provencale — tor even 
in France itself the styles vary in different sec- 
tions — where it was regarded as a serious mis- 
demeanor to set anything on to cook in water; it 
must be weak and sour wiue for many thing", 
broth for others, their own juices or gravies only 
for others. Roast beef plain was never seen, but 
the nearest approach to it w»s the entre-cole or 
choice middle ribs of beef thrust full of strips of 
carrot, turnip, celery and bacon and stewed with 
wine and herbs until it was extremely well done. 
Butter was but little used, but the stewed okra 
seasoned with olive oil hung in ropes of slime from 
the spoon and black and blue beans and peas were 
similarly seasoned A leg of mutton was stuck full 
of fine shreds of garlic and stuffed with minced 
ham, onions and herbs and cooked like the beef; a 
boiled fowl was filled with onions before cooking 
and a paste of onions highly seasoned was spread 
upon it when done. Beefsteak plain was never 
thought of, but it was always covered and even 
simmered in a sauce pungent with pepper or curry, 
garlic, onions, tomatoes and a dozen different herbs, 
and the brown sauce itself was as highly spiced as 
English plum pudding or American mincemeat. 
This was all skillful cookery and required training 
in the cooks to do it, yet the skill and training 
would be thrown away on such a dinner for an 
average American company. It is not a part of 
the business before us to deride the style de. 
scribed. Some people like all such dishes and 
therefore they are found among the hotel entrees, 
but they are exceptions, and a national system 
cannot be founded upon exceptions. The intelli- 
gent French, it is said, adopted plain roast beef 
underdone from the example of the English. The 
intelligent Freuch cook in this country modifies his 
methods to suit thetastes of the people as he dis 
nvers them, but in just the same degree he leaves 



distinctive French cookery behind and furnishes a 
reason why it is not understood and appreciated 
by the native cooks. 

Diverse Schools. 

French cookery is incomprehensible because the 
French cooks themselves follow several different 
authorities, and our Francatelli is altogether out 
of date with them and one of the smallest author- 
ities among them. It is very rare that any of 
Francatelli's terms are now met with in really 
French menus, and to see them in the bill of fare 
of any hotel is almost a sure sign that there is 
some other sort of a cook trying to be French. It 
is true that a tew of the names of dishes are to be 
found the same in all books, such as a la Richelieu, 
a la chasseur, a la Perigeux, and so forth, but still 
there are so many that are to be found in one and 
not in the others that any one who is acquainted 
with them all can generally tell from a menu which 
authority the cook is most familiar with. The 
French speaMng cooks of San Francisco, for in- 
stance, seem to show by their menus the greatest 
acquaintance with the terms of the cuisine classique, 
those of the Eastern summer resorts indicate Jules 
Gouffe. 



It may be seen from the mere statement of these 
facts that if the use of a name for a dish is to con- 
vey a description of it the diversity of masters baf- 
fles the intention, for a cook may understand Ca- 
reme and be well up in Francatelli and still be un- 
able to describe the dishes of another who follows 
Bernard, or may compose his menus for years from 
the dishes of Urbain-Dubois, and still pick up a 
menu containing terms and dishes he knows 
nothing about from Jules and Alphonse Gouffe. 

Besides the cooks in the most prominent positions 
are continually setting out, what are by courtesy 
called new dishes. And supposing that these diff- 
erences could be cleared up by means of the cooks 
meeting in conventions, as has been proposed, the 
utter uselessness of ever reaching an agreement 
would still be felt in the impossibility of making 
the general public for whom cooks exist — even the 
French public itself, understand any better than 
before. 

Too Extravagant 

The French cookery that we hotel cooks have 
been expected to know originated as the pastime of 
kings and princes at a period before the age of 
great inventions and when the rich idlers had 
nothing better to think about than to imitate the 
profligacy of the ancient liomans and vie with 
each other in the costliness of their banquets. It 
was a merit in a cook to make a dish expensive and 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



319 



the extravagant character of the whole system thus 
stamped upon it is still an integral part of it and 
unfits it for the adoption of a busiuess-like people 
The expedients resorted to to make the common 
food of humanity unnaturally costly by cooking it 
ia rare wine and garnishing it with other articles 
costing more than their weight in gold were not so 
permanently injurious as a certain vagary of those 
days which led to a sort of worship of the reduced 
essence of meat as holding all that was worth hav- 
ing in the food, an elixir of life; a sort of hidden 
principle of nutrition that was to be extracted in 
some degree from vegetable substances as well, but 
when extracted whether from truffles or fish or birds 
or meats, all that remained was regarded as practica- 
bly worthless. It was a passing notion of the wise 
men of their generation — like the blue glass theory 
of a few years ago in this country, but less tran- 
sient — that contained enough of truth to make a 
lasting impression. It made the cooks extremely 
important as the extractors of these precious elix- 
irs. It led to extremes of extravagance It led to 
the invention of numbers of new dishes which 
French cookery is still encumbered wiih, little bet- 
ter than a heap of rubbish now; dishes denominated 
a V essence, the essential characteristics of which 
are that they are composed of the concentrated ex- 
tracts of something or other, as lively as not of 
larks or ortolans, or it may be only wild boars 
head, but useless now hecause the fictitious value 
these essences once had has passed away. For the 
customer of a cafe to value such things at their 
former value — these dishes that made the cooks 
who composed them famous — it would be necessary 
for him to be imbued with the beliefs of the times 
ofthedawnof modern chemistry, when it was 
thought to have been discovered that the principles 
of life lay in the gravy. 



This exaggerated estimate was imbibed even by 
Brillat-Savarin, probably in his youth, and an ex- 
ample of it has been already quoted in this book in 
connection with the articles on roast beef and 
gravy. Our people esteem the natural gravy most 
highly but it is for its real value, as they value "the 
sweet taste of the wheat" in good bread.and not for 
any imaginary qualities. It is now known by those 
even of the leaBt physiological education that man 
cannot live on condensed essences, but the stomach 
requires a certain bulk of food along with the 
nourishment. 

An instance in illustration of what is above set 
forth is furnished by an admirer of that system of 
cookery as follows: 



The Prince of Soubise, wishing one day to cel- 
ebrate a fete, which was to finish off with a supper, 
gave orders that the bill of fare should be shown 
him beforehand. Next morning, at his levee, the 



steward made his appearance with the document 
handsomely ornamented, and the first item which 
caught the eye of the Prince was, "fifty bams." 

'•Hullo, Bertrand!" said he; ' you must be ou ( 
of your sensesl Fifty hams! do you intend feast, 
ing all my soldiers ?" 

"No your highness; one only will appear on the 
table, but the others are equally necessary for my 
espagnole, my blonds, my 'trimmings,' my 

"Bertrand, you are robbing me, and I can't let 
this item pass." 

"Ah, monseigneur," said the artist, scarcely 
able to restrain his anger, "you don't know our re- 
sources. Give the order, and those fifty hams 
which annoy you, I shall put them into a glass bot- 
tle no bigger than my thumb." 

"What reply could be made to an assertion so 
pathetic? The Prince smiled, nodded assent, and 
so the item passed." 



When "the artist" said he eould put the fifty hams 
into a bottle no bigger than his thumb he meant t hat 
he lould extract the essence of them and put it into 
such a bottle and as that would be all that was 
really of any value according to the craze of that 
time, the meat remaining might as well be consid- 
ered as out of existence, it was all the same as noth- 
ing. And the Prince so greatly admired his skill, 
according to the craze of that lime, that he smiled 
approving'y. 



Impracticable . 

The French cookery that we hotel cooks have 
been expected to know ; that we have gained higher 
pay for pretending to practice, is the same now 
that it was in the time of the Prince of Soubise 
It is founded upon "espagnole," "blonds" and es- 
se ces that take large quantities of meat to make. 
The French cook who is thoroughly imbued with 
the teachings of that system delights in the most 
costly dishes, and for every economical method he 
may be obliged to adopt he makes an apology to the 
genius of his art. It is in the impracticable nature 
of the system itself that it could not be adopted nor 
even understood by any set of people governed by 
business principles. Our familiar Francatelli, the 
book which most cooks possess, and which we borrow 
the big words from to terrify our hotel guests with 
and make them feel small aud cheap because they 
don't understand French as we do — the book that 
cooks learn some things from, but which none can 
work by, is as irreconcilable with any practice 
that hotel-keepers can permit as the "artist" 
Bernard, of the anecdote, himself could have 
been. 



In order to obtain this precious espagnole, blond 
and veloute, presumably for about twenty-five per- 



320 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



sons — only the sauces for the dinner, it is to be ob- 
served, and not the dinner itself — Francatelli tells 
us we must use the following amount of material: 

40 pounds of white veal, or 2 legs. 

40 pounds of gravy beef. 

40 pounds of leg of beef and knuckles of veal. 

1 pound of fresh butter. 

1 pound of lean ham. 

3 wild rabbits. 

2 hens. 

1 pound of glaze (reduced essence of meat). 
Some essence of mushrooms 

Some chicken broth. 

Some blond of veal. 

Butter and flour thickening, vegetables and herbs. 

When we have used up all that material — not to 
name that which has gone beside to make the 
pound of glaze, the chicken broth and the blond of 
veal and the essence of mushrooms — and gone 
through processes occupying two or three days, we 
shall have as a result some indefinite amount — 
supposably two or three quarts — of sauces and 
about an equal amount of precious soup stock 
ready to begin to make a soup with. Is there any- 
thing strange in the fact that French cookery has 
failed to take' root among us? 

francatelli' s book is practically the only medium 
there is for English speaking cooks to learn this 
French nonsense through, but although bearing the 
deceptive title of the "Modern Cook," it was 
really written about fifty years ago, and is out of 
date with those who can read French. So to make 
good our statement that the principle of French 
coo : ery is the same today that it was in the time 
of the Prince of Soubise and his maitre d'hotel 
Bertrand we will quote the directions for making 
the same fundamental sauces from Jules Gouffe, so 
late as 1871. We are first to have ready five gal- 
lons of good soup stock, that has consumed in the 
mailing already an incredible amount of meat and 
poultry, and then we are to take for the new be- 
ginning: 

12 pounds of veal without bone. 

4 pounds of gravy beef. 

2 young hens. 

2 pounds of fresh butter — the 

6 gallous of stock. 

Vegetables, herbs, flour, seasonings. 

Gouffe is sufficiently definite in his statements of 
amounts. When we have have used up the above 
material and condensed the product we shall pos- 
sess 3 quarts of brown sauce and 3 quarts of white 
sauce. Only this and nothing more. It may be 
left to the common sense of the cook to make use 
of the solid meat veal and the hens after this first 
use for making sauce, but there is no direction to 
do so, and no encouragement for it is expressly 
stated in these words : 



"It is a mistake to think that by over-cooking 
the meat the consomme or sauces will be improved 
thereby; when thoroughly cooked, all nutriment is 
extracted from the meat 

This, although dated so late as 1871, is the same 
old worship of the gravy. The meat is nothing; 
the sauce is everything. But the common sense of 
a people rises above the theories of the ancient 
alchemists and modern cranks. The workingman 
who finds it necessary to lay out so large a propor- 
tion of his earnings in butcher's meat would laugh 
such a theory to scorn; and for hotel men a system 
based upon such ideas is simply absurd and im- 
practicable. 

Every hotel cook repeats the current remarks, 
"Oh, you can't work by Francatelli," or, "It 
would break up any hotel in the world to follow 
Francateli." 

And yet they must read it; there is nothing else. 
If they could read further they would make the 
same remarks about all the French authorities. 
They read and then stumble along, doing as circum- 
stances compel them, the best way they cau. 

But French cooks who have been trained have 
these impracticable notions drilled into them and 
are not always so accommodating as to lay them 
aside for money-making considerations. 



Two little instances occur to mind that will 
serve to show how this irreconcilable system con- 
flicts with hotel keeping interests. This one was a 
"French John," so called, who became second cook 
in a flourishing hotel, and on the second forenoon 
was required to make a tomato sauce. A small 
quantity only was wanted, a ten cents worth in 
cost, perhaps; a little sauce made in an omelet pan 
to go with an unimportant entree. There would 
not be more than a dozen orders called for. It did 
not require the expenditure of more than a few 
minutes' time when there were many larger matters 
needing attention. But John took the soHd end of 
a good ham, a two quart can of tomatoes, a pound 
of butter, some onionB, bay leaves and other sea- 
sonings and a saucepan of soup stock, which he set 
about boiling down to glaze, while the three pounds 
of ham was boiling in the tomitoes, likewise being 
condensed. For John was a conscientious disciple 
of the French culinary masters: the word sauce 
was one of immense meaning to him, and he 
thought the hour or two devoted to that one opera- 
tion was worthily spent. The head cook, however, 
disapproved of the whole thing, and when at last a 
little of the precious sauce had been laboriously 
forced through a "tammy," and it proved to be 
scorched at the bottom and almost worthless, he 
sharply remonstrated, and poor John got upon his 
dignity. "What you want?" said he. "I cook 
French. I no make it you shlop, I make it you 
good things. If you want-it shlop for sauce gel 



THE AMEKICAN COOK. 



321 



your pan-washer to make it; I'm a French cook." 
ADd so he folded up his jacket and left. All the 
sympathy goes with John in a case like this, be- 
cause he will not make "shlop," and will not be 
cheap. We understand that very well, and he is 
welcome to it, for the system he works under is 
utterly impracticable just the same. 

All French cooks are not so unreasonable, for 
they do not all live up to their books; we purposely 
mention two who did, to show how it works. 

The other was a head cook, an ideal French chef, 
soft mannered, educated and polite, who could 
give a reason for what he did. He was extrava- 
gant in the use of material to a degree worthy al- 
most of Urbain-Dubois, the Kaiser's cook himself. 
The hotel was doing a good business and could 
stand a good deal of expense, still there were some 
items that pinched with an uncommon pressure. 
One of these was butter. The proprietors were 
already educated up to the point of buying none 
but perfectly sweet butter, and it so happened that 
such an article at that time and place cost thirty- 
to forty cents per pound. A forty-pound tub of it 
was rolled into the kitchen every morning for the 
cook to use, and it seldom proved sufficient for the 
day. Another iiem was the wines and liquors, 
which this chef, working strictly up to rule, would 
not accept at all unless they were by the quart 
dipperful. Common wine for marinading and 
stewing and baking in, Maderia, Port and Sherry 
for soups and ragouts; rum and brandy for sauces. 
Sixteen dollars a day for cooking butter and about 
the same sum for liquors, in a hotel of no great 
size, made the proprietors murmur a long time, and 
at length they spoke to the chef about it. Couldn't 
he manage to run with less? The chef put on a 
dejected look, shrugged his shoulders and spread 
out the palms of his hands — "Yes, if you want to 
live common, but, if you want to be first-class — 1" 
That was enough to quell the proprietors. Of 
course they wanted to be first-class. They did not 
stop to say it, but silently retreated. But a short 
time after they mustered up courage once again. 
Better not to be so thoroughly first-class than to 
be bankrupt, and the accomplished chef took his 
departure. He would have been a most valuable 
man in his position, if he had not been pursuing an 
impracticable system. 



Where it once Flourished. 

French cookery considered in its ornamental 
character also is a thing of the past. The sudden 
•hangs to the fashion of serving dinner a la Rttsse 
killed it. The system which used to tyrannize 
<iver all who could not speak the language, had its 
head severed from its trunk by that swift stroke as 
neatly as in the story we read, where the blade 
was so keen the person decapitated did not know 



that it had passed through his neck until he began 
to move about and found his head was loose. 

The allusions we often hear from "old-timers" to 
the splendor of the tables of the southern river 
steamboats of from thirty to fifty years ago are no 
part of the common peurile praise of "good old 
times," but relate to a time when everything orna- 
mental in French cookery and French terms that 
now seem so nonsensical really was brought into 
full practice and exhibition. The peculiar condi- 
tions that made it practicable then and not now, on 
the river, resulted from there being then plenty ot 
very wealthy travelers and no railway in that part 
of the country for them to travel on. They made 
their regular winter visits to New Orleans The 
steamboats were the only means of conveyance. 
Whole families of the planters went at once and 
returned at once, and they were about a week, on 
an average, on board the boat each way. The 
swiftest steamers that set the finest tables secured 
the greatest numbers. There would be from two 
hundred to five hnndred of the wealthiest, or 
at least the most extravagant class of people; there 
were bands of music on board, and grand balls 
were frequent, when perhaps the passengers from 
another steamboat of even speed going the same 
way would come on board as guests, to be returned 
to their own boat at some landing toward the morn- 
ing. There was then nothing too good or too ex- 
pensive for some of the captains to put on their 
tables. That was the time for display. It came to 
an end with the completion of the first northern 
railroad to New Orleans, and the steamboats 
changed in character from race-horses to mere 
beasts of burden. 



Twenty-Pour Entrees a Day. 

The style of serving dinner then was to set one 
table the entire length of the cabin, and the dishes 
that composed the dinner were set upon the table 
in their entirety, in chafing dishes kept hot by 
alcohol lamps. To make a good show 
on such a table, as many as twenty-four 
entrees might be wanted, perhaps twelve different 
ones and two of each kind, or eight different and 
three of a kind, and dishes of vegetables to match. 
The people at table saw everything whether they 
chose to partake of it or not, and there was reason 
enough for building up, ornamenting and naming 
dishes then. The waiters took up each dish in 
turn, while the captain or steward was carving and 
serving the roasts, and offered them to each person, 
and helped those who accepted from the dish as 
they went along. The names of dishes meant 
something then to the cooks and stewards, for as 
every different named dish of fowl bad a different 
division of the joints, a different way of building 
up in the dish and different color and ornamenta- 



!!22 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



tion, one standing at the end of the table could tell 
whether a dish of fowl was a fricassee a la St. 
Lambert, or a fricassee a la Romaine, and whether 
another was a turban or a chartreuse, and whether a 
fish was a la Chambord, or a la Chevaliere. But i 
those dishes had been kept in the kitchen and 
served individually nobody could have seen where 
the name came in. That is what makes the French 
names so senseless now. You may take a certain 
number of breasts of chicken and build up a turban 
of fillets of fowl, and it is a turban — a definite 
something with a name. But if you serve it out of 
sight, in the carving room, you cannot persuade 
anybody that it is a piece of turban; common sense 
says it is a piece of chicken. To give the names of 
these dishes that are never seen is like winking at 
your girl in the dark; you may know what you are 
doing but nobody else does. At least half the 
French names of dishes were swept out of use 
when the individual style and small dishes and 
small tables came in vogue. 



No More Sugar Toys. 

So with centre pieces and ornamental gum paste 
temples. In ancient times it was the custom to set 
images of the favorite deities on the banqueting 
tables, to bring good luck. The French changed it 
for the plateau, a centre piece of almost any orna- 
mental form, a vase or fountain or church set on a 
bed of moss, or something of the sort, not of eata- 
ble materials, and from that came the chateaux in 
sugar rock work and the Chinese pagodas in gum 
paste. But now the only centre pieces at the 
finest banquets are banks of flowers and the op. 
portunities for displaying ornamental meat dishes 
and sugar work occur but seldom when there is a 
set supper for a party or a ball. This has swept 
away another feature of the old-time bills of fare, 
for except when the cooks get up banquets for 
themselves so that they may once and again have 
the joy of showing these things which they love so 
much but which nobody else wants, there are no 
more grosses pieces and pieces montees. 



"The Tables Fairly Groaned." 

Under that old method of setting the long table 
for dinner both in hotel and steamboat and sum. 
moning the people by bell or gong all to come and 
eat and see at once, there were strong reasons for 
doing many things in the way of producing variety 
that seem useless and silly now. There was the 
very extended table to be filled and after the meat 
dishes were removed, as many more of pastry and 
dessert were required to replace them, and if there 
was to be three stands of meringues, three of custard 
in cups, and three of charlotte russe, and so forth, 
if the pastry cook was skillful enough there was no 



reason why the charlottes should not be different 
in form and ornament, the custards all have a dif- 
feient topping and the meringues be white, rose- 
colored and chocolate instead of all alike, since they 
would be seen all down the table on account of their 
being on raised stands. In the hotels the finest 
dinner of the week was on Sunday, on steamboats 
it was the last dinner of the trip. 

A boat would perhaps be three or four days from 
New Orleans to Memphis, or six or seven to St. 
Louis, or Louisville or Nashville or Huntsville or 
Tuscumbia ; and the steward starting out with his 
ice chests full of provisions, had his Mobile Bay 
oysters, soldered in tin cans at New Orleans, packed 
down in ice that came from Maine in sailing vessels^ 
his terrapins, turtle and best fishes, such as pom- 
pano and Spanish mackerel, all laid out and appor- 
tioned for each dinner that was to come. The first 
day out was common, the second day's dinner bet- 
ter, about the third dinner the extras began to show 
up, and in getting ready for the last two dinners of 
the trip the cooks and pastry cooks would work all 
night doing ornamental work, and when the boat 
was in port they had two or three days with noth- 
ing to do but a dozen officers to cook for, and the 
fine cakes and gum paste businesses on hand would 
do to start the return trip dinners with. 

False Standards of Excellence. 

The cooks who were eminent among their fellows 
for their skill in building up ornamental entrees 
and cold dishes to set up on high on these long 
tables for all to see]; the cooks who had the largest 
assortment of ornamental silver skewers and who 
could cut the most marvelously fine roses and lilies 
out of beets and turnips ; the pastry cook who could 
build the most architecturally correct churches of 
gum paste, with gelatine windows, and who had 
the most molds wherein to cast horses and things in 
either sugar or mutton tallow found their occupa- 
tion gone under the new fashion of serving dinner 
at small tables and carving the meats in the pantry 
or kitchen, and each one had to throw away enough 
of that kind of knowledge to set up half a dozen 
cooks under the modern manner. Still the French 
cooks grieve over this state of things. There is 
nothing finer than a boar's head a la St. Hubert, for 
a cold dish, or a fillet of beef a la Qodard, for a 
hot one, but the names relate solely to the manner 
of decorating and the ornamental stands they are 
served upon, and when either article is sliced up St. 
Hubert and M. Godard both vanish and the dishes 
are resolved into their original elements of pig's 
head and beef. But this is so difficult for cooks — 
and indeed a good many others — to realize, there 
is such a deceptive glamour about these p'ay things 
that kings and nobles have patronized and former 
fashions have cherished that a false standard of 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



culinary excellence is set up, that is unfair all 
around. 

The hotel keeper of the present day says in ef- 
fect, to his cook, when he opens his house ; " Now, 
I can bring plenty of customers to my hotel, but I 
depend upon you to keep them." And if the cook 
does such good cooking that he does keep them and 
the house fills up and overflows, he does that which 
makes money for cooks and all concerned. But on 
account of the false standard set up by French 
cookery the mass of cooks never think that kind of 
success a merit, but they ask about another one, 
what has he ever done ? and who has ever seen his 
work ? They mean has he ever laid an ornamental 
cold fish in a dish on a bed of moss made by color- 
ing butter green and pressing it like vermicelli 
through a seive, or has he ever made a castle out of 
pressed head cheese. These were paying accomp- 
lishments forty years ago, but they are only play 
business now. They are so much more of the French 
system swept away by the ruthless hand of time. 



not required a French education for their under- 
standing, for there is no more mention of a French 
name or dish or sauce in them than if such a nation 
was not in existence, and, which must seem most 
incomprehensible to French cooks who regard them 
as the very foundation for everything, they do not 
tell how to make, espagnole and veloute, nor even 
mention them 1 And still we claim to be a civilized 
people. 



There is an association of French-speaking cooks 
called the Universal Society of Culinary Art, that 
seems to be a sort of international trades union with 
missionary, or perhaps propagandist tendencies, 
that has its headquarters in this country in New 
York and branches in all the principal cities. It 
ought to do good in teaching cookery, and perhaps 
it will. The prospect would be better if there were 
but one such union, but there is another association 
of French cooks in New York beside, and, it seems 
that the two are not in harmony. The leading 
motive of both is, however, the same. Like the 
children in the promised laud, they have spied out 
the United States and found it a goodly laud for 
cools and they are going torth to possess it and its 
milk and honey. 

Before they can succeed in this laudable enter- 
prise, however, they must learn to speak United 
States when they [talk of cooking or eating, for 
the people of this country positively will not go to 
the trouble of learning French words as a prelimi- 
nary to getting their dinners, when they can have 
as good as they want without. They must not tell 
the domestic cooks who may be their pupils to vanner 
a sauce when they mean to skim until it is bright, 
nor say bardez-le when they mean cover it with 
bands of bacon, because these cooks have not gen- 
erally made much progress in their French lessons 
at college. In the early editions of Francatelli the 
directions to daube a piece of meat were very fre- 
quent, but none of the English wanted their meat 
daubed, it was a '-nasty " word to them, and ac- 
cordingly in the later editions the word almost en- 
tirely disappeared, and larded has taken its place. 

The domestic cook books of this country that have 
had the largest sales, reaching to the hundred 
thousand copies, and which have done good, have 



One of the officers of this Universal society, a 
very good friend of the writers, was talking one 
day about this association and its objects. He 
himself is a regularly trained cook. When, a boy, 
he was called upon to choose what trade he would 
follow, he chose to be a cook, as much as a matter of 
course, as he would have chosen to be a printer or a 
carpenter or a builder or a bookkeeper, for that was 
in Europe. He said they had about four hundred 
members in New York. We replied that four hund- 
red cooks were not many to cook for a million and 
a half of people. He said they they had forty 
members in Chicago. 

We thought that forty were not many in a city of 
six hundred thousand. 

"But," he said, "we are going to train cooks 
enough for all these small hotels and for all the 
private families who can afford to employ them — 
we shall train them from the beginning — we shal 
teach them to make espagnole and veloute." 

One does not naturally continue a subject with a 
friend, on which there can be no possible agree- 
ment, and the conversation was dropped. 

Espagnole and veloute will never be taught to any 
considerable extent in this country, because they 
will never be adopted nor wanted nor understood. 
Ever since the time of Ude, the cook or maitre 
d'hotel of Louis XV, and Bechamel somewhat later, 
and Careme, who cooked for King George, III, the 
French cooks have been trying to teach these two 
sauces to the Anglo-Saxons, and probably not one 
in a hundred thousand persons knows what they 
are to-day. They are, as we have already shown, 
a brown stock sauce and a white one, made by con- 
suming about ten pounds of meat to produce 
a pint. Employers will not have them. 
They are not wanted. There is extravagance 
enough in dress and furniture and building, but in 
this country extravagance does not extend to the 
culinary operations. 



What remains? Well, all the essential part of 
cookery remains under the rubbish. There is an 
excellent hotel system already in existence, but it 
has never been put in a book. There is good cook 
ing going on in thousands of places, but in an indi- 
vidual go-as-you-please sort of way. One cook 
knows a half dozen soups and a dozen entrees and 
another knows the same number that are all difler- 



324 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



ent, and we propose to bring them together These 
cooks who could not follow out French directions 
because they were inpracticable have nevertheless 
found something in them. Some dishes have been 
adopted from the Italians, some from the Germans, 
some from the Mexicans and Spaniards, some from 
the French Creoles, and a great number from 
"home cooking." A writer in a leading magazine 
just recently extolled the (rue Maryland cookery as 
being unsupassed in the world, although simplicity 
itself, and the remark might be applied to more 
than one state or section. They will be dis- 
appointed who are looking for a book of entreos 
that will furnish them with a bran new set of 
French names longer and harder than any other 
cook ever had, but, whenever in the following 
pages we happen to know what the foreign name of 
any dish used to be we will tell you. There is to 
be no pulling down of the cook's occupation, but a 
building up. But there are many deep rooted 
wrong ideas to be encountered. 



A Frightful Example 

Here is a cook who has sent us three of his best 
Sunday bills of fare. He is such a cook as hotel 
keepers are willing to pay fifty or sixty dollars a 
month to. He is perfectly satisfied with himself 
and his bills of fare, and thinks his hard to beat, 
and the only thing in the world he would be willing 
to learn would be some more French terms, because 
each of his bills has twelve entrees and only half 
of them are outfitted with French a la's, and then 
the stock gave out and the other five or six had to 
come out in common English. The entrees are in 
the same number that used to be required to set 
along those extended tables we have referred to, 
and this man does realize that he is behind the 
times, and two or three would be better now. Of 
his twelve entrees four are of the pudding order, 
being "Spanish cake with lemon sauce, macaroni 
and cheese, Welsh rarebits, and charlotte of peach- 
es," forgetting that nobody wants them and the 
pastry part of the dinner too. Then, in all three 
of the bills the entrees are nearly the same over 
again. He has what was evidently noix of veal ala 
something — one of the stock dishes from Franca- 
telli — changed into "knuckle of veal," and it is in 
all his bills. Perhaps, when he used to write it 
noix the printers boy used to run over out of breath 
asking what that word was, and the waiters did not 
know how to call it — such is the preposterousness 
of the whole business — and has construed it noix — 
nux — knucks — knuckles, and probably thinks that 
is what it is. If he is wrong in any of these par- 
ticulars there is no book and no person to tell him 
and the like of him any better, and for this reason 
we have taken up our task. 



1162. Common Sense About Entrees. 

Entrees seem more intelligible if one has gradu- 
ated from a cooks' college — when called by their 
other name, made dishes, in contra distinction from 
the plain roasted and boi'ed meats. About all the 
pleasure there is in meat cooking is to be found in 
making the entrees and soups, as they call for taste 
and skill, and there is a certain sort of delight, 
such as every good workmau finds in his occupa- 
tion, in the perfect fit of every article of provision 
to the place where it is wanted, either large or 
small, either prominent or unimportant, to keep up 
an even average in the bill of fare. Thus, when 
you have good meats or fowls or turkeys in the 
roasts the entrees are but of little consequence, any 
trifles that do not cost much will do, but when the 
plain meats are unattractive put in the best your 
skill can furnish of made dishes. 

Entrees were so called because they were the first 
to enter the dining room, according to French 
usage. Then, as now, at small dinners of more or 
less ceremony the entrees took the place that the 
plain roast meats occupy in the hotel dinners. 
Though not with us the leading dishes they are 
very necessary as a means of making use of many 
pieces of meat and other articles that could not be 
used in other ways. One of the first thoughts, ap- 
parently, that a hotel keeper has in regard to cut- 
ting down the expenses of the table is that he will 
cut oft" the entrees, but perhaps that is what he can 
least afford to do. It depends, however, upon 
whether they are made an item of expense or a 
means of saving by the cook, and whether they 
are really valuable dishes or only things crowded 
in to make a huge bill of fare. 

1163. Knowledge of Cookery Requisite. 

These made dishes render life a burden to cooks 
who have not learned to consider them in a true 
light, they know no reason for them; there is a 
certain lot of padding to be done to fill the bill and 
it seems that the markets are never big enough 
and never well enough furnished to supply materi- 
als to make entrees; but, on the other hand it seems 
mere pastime when you get the business down to 
the proper focus. Then you find the made dishes 
are the means of saving you trouble with the goods 
you already have on hand. American hotels are 
the only perfect schools of cookery for that reason. 
There are ladies lecturing in the cities about how 
to choose meat, and telling that the worse parts of 
the animal are the better, but they can never give 
point or meaning to such statements until they ob- 
serve how admirably skillful cookery converts the 
unpromising odds and ends of raw material into 
finished dishes in really good hotels. We may even 



THE AMEBICAN COOK. 



325 



make somethings that we know will not be called 
for, merely to keep up the usual number when 
everybody 13 feasting on some specialty of the day. 
At the same time it is found that among the many 
guests of a hotel there will be a few who will chooae 
viands that the majority would bok upon with 
aversion. 



1164. Different Tastes to Suit. 

While most people will choose the plain roasts we 
ave known some German merchants and their 
families who never ate any but stewed meats. It 
mattered but little in which of twenty different 
forms the stewed meat appeared so that it was 
stewed. If there was no such entree in the list 
these good customers were deprived of their din- 
ner. The roast meats are the dearest and stewed 
meats and pot-pies are the cheapest, consequently 
it is a merit to make them good. It is a source of 
pride to a cook because it is a proof of skill, when 
the plain meats are left alone and the entrees are 
all consumed. We knew an Italian cook once who 
made macaroni in some form almost every day and 
had succeeded in bringing it in great request, and 
the boys, and the steward too, quizzed him about 
serving so much macaroni because he was Italian. 
But he went to figuring and showed that his deli- 
cious specialty cost the house less than two cents a 
dish, and then we all looked upon his proceeding 
in a different light, for almost all in the house were 
eating it. 

1165. Variety 

The real difference between dishes of the same 
character cannot always be great and it is not neces- 
sary they should be. There is something monotonous 
about writing out a bill of fare every morning and 
a feeling that we are repeating the same words 
week after week never giving the people anything 
new. There is no need to account for it, it simply 
is so as every cook knows who has to tell the stew- 
ard what dishes he is going to make for dinner. 
This is what causes the anxiety to acquire more 
French terms. The real remedy is to learn more 
dishes. Hotel-keepers themselves who do uot go 
deeply into the daily routine sometimes question the 
necessity of so many changes, but the stewards 
who write the menus — in some hotels where there 
is luncheon, dinner, and five o'clock dinnor served, 
three menus in one day — know that there are nev- 
er dishes enough to select from. 

People in private houses who have a salad per- 
haps but once a week or never except at a party, 
eannot see the use of our having five or six differ- 
ent styles of putting, say a shrimp salad on a dish. 
But if they had to serve salads at three meals each 
day, and two or more kinds at each meal they 



would discover in a few weeks that it would be dif- 
ficult to show up anything to a banquet or party 
supper that had not already become an old story. 
It is the same in cultivating many kinds of fruits 
and flowers. We have peaches, grapes, strawber- 
ries, and they are good enough, and still growers 
go on producing new varieties; and no matter how 
good and sufficient one person's residence may be a 
thousand others will build theirs all some different 
way. "Variety is the spice of life." 



But the solid comfort to a cook of knowing all 
the ways can be better illustrated in this manner : 
When the breakfast meats have been cut and laid 
ready, with the pork chops to be breaded, you have 
two briskets of pork left over and as they will not 
do for roast pork you plan the dinner bill with these 
pieces for the leading entree, stuffed and rolled. 
When that question is settled and the other made 
dishes are decided upon and the bill of fare as good 
as finished, here begins a game of '-ten little In- 
juns" with your meat. It loses one slice and an- 
other slice until your dinner hill is all broke up 
again. The breakfast cutlets give out and a cut or 
two comes off the pork roll until there is not enough 
left to serve in that style, and you conclude to slice 
it and fry in flour and serve with tomato sauce. 
Another portion goes and you have only enough 
left for a meat pie ; the remainder of that brisket 
is called for and the half of what you originally 
had will answer only for a brown stew eked out 
with potatoes. Another call and another and at 
last there is barely enough left to serve as season- 
ing for another dish and the bill of fare must be 
made all over again. 



1166. Knowing How Much to Prepare. 

It must seem like an assumption in any case to 
say in advance how much of any article to be of- 
fered will be ordered and consumed by a given 
number of people at a hotel table, but still every 
cook learns by experience to make a very close 
guess. There are scores of contingencies, of course, 
that throw the calculations outaud require "gump- 
tion" in the cook to make allowance for them. 
There is nothing more provocative of disgust with 
the whole catering business than to have to begin 
before the meal is half over answering the demands 
with "it is all out," except the other extreme of 
having all the pans and saucepans left at the end of 
a meal full of fixed up messes that nobody wants 
or ever will want. 

A cook can never learn how to avoid both diffi- 
culties without seeing for himself at the end of 
every meal just what has been eaten out clean and 
what has been passed by unnoticed. 

Generally speakingall dishes containing chicken 
in any form, turkey, oysters and eggs will be or- 



326 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



dered by the hundred dishes when curries and 
other highly flavored articles are only called for 
by the tens. 

A very much disappointed cook we once knew 
had made a hundred lobster cutlets as one of his 
entrees for two hundred persons. He was from 
the seashore where he had been used to seeing 
such dishes held in great estimation, for people 
often go there with the intention of feasting on 
sea products who never care for them at home. 
The cook had destroyed a good many lobsters to 
make his flattened croquettes with the lobster claw 
in each one like the bone of a lamb chop and he 
dished them very handsomely with sauce and 
trimmings. But at the end of the dinner there 
had been no more than twelve or fifteen orders 
for his cutlets that had cost him hours of labor, 
and he looked at them as a model maker might 
gaze on a machine that won't work, and shrug. 
ging his shoulders he said, '-Well, I suppose I 
may eat my cutlets myself." He never made 
any more. 

1167. How People Order Dinner. 

There is no natural division in an American plan 
dinner where Roman punch or an equivalent for it 
can be introduced, although any sort of form may 
be instituted by mutual consent ; and there is no pro- 
priety in placing the game in the bill of fare any- 
where but in the list of roasts at the top. 

The home coterie at the tables at one end of the 
dining-room, can order their dinners in courses 
from the ordinary hotel bill of fare, if they choose 
to do so, and in as many courses as they please 
without regard to the arrangement of the dishes in 
the menu. It is a matter between themselves, the 
inside steward and head waiter and does not con- 
cern the carver or the cook, because the dinner 
lasts long enough in any case and when a waiter 
comes for a set of late orders of game it is all the same 
whether it is a party taking game as a subsequent 
course or a new party taking game instead of roast 
beef for their entire dinner. It is not like the 
whole company setting down at once, all reaching 
the Roman punch course at once, and all taking 
game and salad simultaneously 

The hotel is still an inn. 

There is a natural way that people left entirely 
unconstrained order their dinner, which perhaps is 
not to be accounted for, but is instinctive, and the 
vast majority feel the more comfortable in a hotel 
the more easy it is made for them to fall into the 
natural course. Their ways and manners are 
formed elsewhere ; the hotel is not to form them 
anew, but to accommodate them in their own pre- 
dilections. It we set out the glass of frozen punch 
in the middle of the dinner for the average trans- 
ient guest, when ice cream is afterwards offered at 



the finish, there is a great probability that he will 
remark he has already had ice cream. There may be 
a laughing in the sleeve somewhere, but no certain- 
ty that the hotel is getting the best of it ; there are 
so many more people than there are hotels, and they 
have so much more time to prolong the laughter. 

In the natural course people want no "waits" 
between the soup and fish. Where there is a bill of 
fare, they inevitably order these together. Where 
there is no bill and the dinner is " called off" by 
the waiters, the " call " should be arranged accord- 
ingly- 
Then they look over the whole bill, and it makes 
no difference where you may have placed the game 
and salads, even at the very bottom, they order 
then whatever they want in the way of meats, 
game, entrees, salads and vegetables all at one 
time. 

As a rule, a person does not call for more than 
one kind of plain meat, and if he takes a slice of 
venison or other game, he will not order beef or 
mutton likewise, as if he should take meat now and 
more meat in another course afterwards, but having 
his one cut he will choose with it one or two of the 
made dishes and one or two or perhaps three vege- 
tables. The exceptions are when one kind serves 
as a relish for another, as when boiled ham or pork 
is ordered to eat with chicken; and where, again, 
no roast meat at all is ordered but the dinner made 
of some favorite entree, like a bird pie. 

Then there comes a natural pause in the dinner 
and the "wait" between that and the third and 
last division is not annoying to any but business 
men, who have but a few minutes to devote to the 
troublesome necessity of dining. 



1168. The Use of Sweet Entrees. 

And that shows the use of having a sweet entree, 
and accounts for the common practice. It seems 
natural to end the dinner with a sweet, yet one half 
the customers of some hotels think they can not 
wait long enough to take the third course, and 
every one has inbred home manners enough not to 
order pudding and pie with his meats, when it is 
that some trifle of a rice cake with jelly or a fruit 
fritter goes right to the spot and answers every re- 
quirement. It is ordered with the meals and other 
entrees, despatched in the last two minutes and the 
merchant is free to hurry back to the store and let 
his clerk go to dinner, while those who live to eat 
take their new set-out of cakes, ice creams aud 
fruits at their leisure. 

We have already remarked that there is a good 
American system already in existence. It only 
wants pruning and shaping. The "sweet entree " 
is a part of it, and by diligent search a fair reason 
why has been found. But one is enough, and no 
conoeivable reason can be adduced for having mere 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



327 



than one at once, and there is no reason even for 
that one when it is a dinner of leisure and every 
person will remain to partake of the abundant third 
course, of pastry and pudding, and creams and 
fruits, cheese and coffee. 



1169. Vegetable Entrees. 

It is stretching the meaning of the word consid- 
erably to speak of entrees of vegetables, yet such 
is the practice, and it must be considered in the 
sense of made dishes of vegetables Then it is per- 
fectly intelligible. 

For vegetables appear in two ways, either plain, 
like ordinary stewed tomatoes, or ns garnishes or 
made dishes, like tomatoes stuffed and baked. These 
vegetable garnishes gave names to a number of 
dishes under the old style, or would have given 
names if there had been sufficient common sense in 
them for ordinary people to grasp. Thus, a piece 
of beef or rather meat in a dish with greens around 
it, was beef a la Flamande — that is in Flemish or 
Dutc'a style ; with maccaroni around it, it was a la 
Milanaise — or in the style of the people of Milan in 
Italy; if it had sourkraut it was a V Allemande — 
or German style ; if with dumplings in the dish 
it was a V Anglaise or in English style ; if with 
beets, it was a la Polonaise — in the style of Poland ; 
with stuffed and baked tomatoes around, it was a la 
Proi'encale — in the style ot the south of France; 
with a general variety of vegetables in the same 
lish, like the New England boiled dinner, it was 
a la Jardiniere — the gardener's style ; with the same 
vegetables cut small and mixed together, it was a la 
Macerloine — with a mixed garnish ; and from these 
simples the plan ran on to all sorts of mixed sauces 
and ragouts. They are all out of fashion now. 
These names only held good when the dish was set 
on the table whole. When a man orders beef on 
one dish and greens on another and puts them to- 
gether he knows he is eating beef and greens, and 
all who sit around the table may know it at a glance, 
but there is no possible way of making them see the 
sense of calling it beef a la Flamande, especially as 
they do not know how Flamande should be pro- 
nounced. 

The use of having these made dishes of vegeta" 
bles among our entrees is precisely this: Two per- 
sons will order roast goose from the carving stand. 
One likes onions with it and orders baked onions — 
which he finds on the same among the entrees; the 
other does not and eats his porlion with spinach or 
peas. 

Surely there is something comical in the fact that 
all the common cooks and all the domestic cooks 
and housekeepers are setting dishes a la Flamande, 
a V Allemande, a la Provencale and the rest of it on 
their tables every day. and have not the remotest 
suspicion of the fact, while the cooks of the hotels 



who handle the big words without knowing their 
meaning, don't come within a mile of what they 
think they are doing. 



It is to be distinctly understood, then, that vege- 
table entrees are proper to be made at certain 
times. Besides those mentioned they are such 
dishes as spinach with poached eggs, stewed mush- 
rooms on toast, asparagus points in crusts, stuffed 
onions, fried cabbage and many more, which help 
in making an intelligible bill of fare and a sensibly 
arranged dinner. 

1170. The Rule of Entrees. 

Highest number needed daily in any hotel, 5. 

Necessary for the smallest hotel, 2. 

1st. A Leading Entree — something to be carved 
— highly seasoned meats — braised and stuffed rolls 
— fowls stuffed with onions — or birds too dear to be 
served in large portions, as roasts. 

2nd. A Stewed Meat Entree — including fricas- 
sees with borders, and all sorts of meat pies. 

3rd. A Vegetable Entree — including macaroni 
and spaghetti, cheese polenta and beans. 

4th. A Minced Entree — such as minced ham, 
minced veal, brains, croquettes — trifles of various 
sorts to suit peculiar tastes — fish entrees for Fri- 
day. 

5th. A Sweet Entree. 



Every practical steward and cook well knows 
that no very strict rule can be closely followed, 
because of the first necessity of using to good ad- 
vantage the articles of provision that may be on 
hand, yet those who find their daily perplexity in 
composing the dinner bill of fare find it an immense 
assistance to bear such a rule in mind. 



The smallest hotels need two or three entrees, not 
only to make a more excellent dinner, but in order 
that small quantities of good things, like chicken 
and sweetbreads, may be served in patties and cro- 
quettes, when they will not make a large dish. 



1171. Osmazome. 



Another name for it is beef tea ; another is blood 
gravy. 

To come as near as possible to describing a half- 
imaginary substance by showing the real we should 
ay that osmazome is the meaty part of beef tea 
divided from the clear or watery portion. This is 
the essence of meat that we incidentally referred to 
some pages back as having had so much to do with 
the construction of that world's puzzle called 
French cookery. Osmazome is defined in one of 
the old books as a product of the muscular fibre of 
meat, which gives the characteristic flavor of soup 
and broth, and was formerly supposed to be a def- 



328 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



inite substance. The lime referred to was when one 
of the old French kings had to be nourished on 
beef tea and the royal doctors gave it a Greek name 
and proclaimed it as a new scientific discovery for 
fear the common people would begin to suspect that 
the king was like themselves. The news from the 
palace was not then conveyed to every house by 
cheap newspapers, and the cooks and attendants 
were very proud to have it to say that His Majesty 
and a few of the most favored courtiers were nour- 
ished with the supreme essence and strength and 
concentrated nutriment of the most expensive meats, 
in short, with osmazome, which was by far too 
costly for the common people, and a thing which, 
indeed, was not intended for their concern. It is 
to the aged weakness of Louis XIV., that we owe 
the cordials of spirit and sugar delicately flavored, 
noyeau, orgeat, curacoa, vermouth and many more. 
" For, feeling sometimes the difficulty of living, 
which often appears after sixty, they made him a 
cordial by mixing brandy with sugar and scents — 
the germ of the art of the modern liquorist." In such 
manner doubtless commenced the excessive refine- 
ment of sauces and food essences. New beauties 
and new properties were discovered in a gravy. 
There was a peculiar fascination in the idea that 
the entire strength of an ox was in the osmazome 
contained in its carcass, and that it could all be 
served up in one bowl of soup. There was the ex- 
ultation of unapproachable superiority in the reflec- 
tion that the commonalty in order to obtain a small 
modicum of the precious substance would have to 
go through the laborious process of eating the ox 
itself, piece by piece. We read that a Canon Chev- 
ier used to keep a padlock on the stock boiler, and, 
that many cooks used to be dismissed for abstract- 
ing the first soup — the beef tea — and filling up with 
water again, so valuable was it considered. "For," 
says our authority, "it is osmazome which consti- 
tutes the real merit of good soups. It is osmazome 
which, passing into a state resembling caramel, 
gives meat its reddish tinge, which forms the crisp 
brown on roastsand which yields a flavor to vonison 
and game. It is derived principally from full- 
grown animals, with reddish or dark flesh ; and it 
is scarcely every found in veal, sucking pigs, pul- 
lets, or even the best fed capons. This explains, 
by the way, why your real connoisseur has always 
in poultry, preferred the dark meat." 

Now, the reader who goes along with us will 
probably learn more of the motives and real merits 
of French cookery than were ever presented to 
him to see before, for the world never lets any real 
excellence be forgotten. Covered up out of sight 
by the royal press and courtly euphemisms we shall 
find the first rudiments of good cooking. The 
cordials and liqueurs have a certain excellence of 
their own, they are nice for old people and sugar- 
and-water drinkers, yet if all the fine writers 



should advise all the people to drink them if they 
wished to show that they were cultured and not too 
stupid to learn French excellences, the people 
would go on taking no notice whatever and drink- 
ing something else precisely as they act in regard 
to the special exaltations and refinements of cook- 
ery. We have to separate the real from the fanci- 
ful. The commonest cook in the commonest hotel, 
who does the bad cooking that everybody knows is 
bad ; that even common and stupid people under- 
stand is bad — the cook who crowds a lot of all kinds 
of meat into one baking pan and slings it into a 
warm oven long before it is needed and lets it warm 
up gradually, sees this valuable osmazome trickling 
out of the meat in red drops all over the surface for 
perhaps an hour or more before it becomes hot 
enough to cook the outside and stop it ; and who 
lets these drops of essence run into the pan and 
bake there, and adds to them by constantly thrust- 
ing a fork into the meat and drawing fresh streams, 
is indeed doing a very French way of drawing out 
thie supreme essence, but the grand difference is 
that while the French system allows that meat so 
treated is spoiled and is willing it should be in 
order to obtain the osmazome, which will be 
espagnole when it is flavored and finished, this un- 
learned and unskilled cook that we are supposing 
will throw the gravy away and serve up the meat ; 
will have spoiled the meat for nothing, and will noi, 
know that it is spoiled. As we do not value osma- 
zome with the exaggerated estimate of the French 
system and only need a small amount for the gravy 
for our robust people instead of drawing out all he 
can in that careless way he should strive to keep it 
all in the meat, and after he has done his best to 
prevent its oozing out it will be found that enough 
has escaped to make a little commonplace espagnole 
or pan gravy in spite of all he could do. 



1172. Espagnole— Brown Sauce. 

We took occasion to remark, some way back, the 
extraordinary esteem in which some dishes were 
held by customers of cafes who brought their imag- 
inations to bear to give an exalted character to a 
rather commonplace spread. Here, now, is a story 
gravely told as showing the superlative excellence 
of a great man's cookery as if it were an art not to 
be compassed by ordinary mortals. 

Many a cook, at the present moment, who sends 
'n tenderloin steaks with plenty of natural gravy by 
the hundred a day and receives no special notice 
for it will fail to see why this young fellow should 
be so choked with wonder at the sight that he could 
hardly speak at all. This is the anecdote: 

"The Vicomte de Vaudrcuil, when appointed 
charge d' affaires of France to the Court of St- 
James's, brought over with him a young cook, an 
eleve of the highest schools of the cuisines of Paris. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



320 



Thia young culinary aspirant to fame, shortly after 
his arrival in London, obtained permission of his 
master to go and witness the artistic operations of 
that established cordon bleu, Monsieur Mingay, the 
cook to Prince Esterhazy, who had been brought up 
under the Prince Talleyrand's famous chef, Louis, 
and previously under that most bleu of all cordons, the 
great Careme. On the eleve's return, the Vicomte, 
hearing that his cook was in a state of astonish 
ment from something he had witnessed in Prince 
Esterhazy' s kitchen, summoned him to his presence, 
and said, ' What is this culinary miracle, which I 
have heard astonishes you, and casts into the shade 
all other triumphs of the art?' Vatel's follower 
replied, ' Oh, Monsieur le Vicomte, when I entered 
the cuisine at Chandos House it was near the time 
of the prince's luncheon, for which his excellency 
had ordered something which should be very sim- 
ple and easily digestible, as he was Buffering from 
languor. The chef, Mingay, accordingly cut from 
under a well-hung rump of beef three slices of 
fillet, and rapidly broiling them, he placed the 
choicest-looking in the middle of a hot dish, and 
afterward pressing the juice completely out of the 
remaining two, he poured it on the first I Oh, 
monsieur, how great the prince I how great the 
cook!'" 

To couch so simple an affair, in such marvelous 
language, seems extremely silly unless we remem- 
ber that those were the days of what we have ven- 
tured to term the worship of the gravy. However, 
we commend anew this old anecdote to those chefs 
who discourage the broiler by calling him "only a 
broil and fry cook." We have at hand a letter just 
written by a traveler in the southern states in 
which he says dolefully that a good beefsteak can 
not be had south of Mason and Dixon's line. Prob- 
ably he should have excepted a few of the hotels, 
but if it be all true the false notions about what 
constitutes good cookiug are to blame for it. The 
French cooks do not think it their mission to teach 
how to cook the beefsteaks that the whole nation 
wants, but to teach espagnole and velouteo,ui dishes 
a la moonshine. 



The filet a la Chateaubriand is very much like the 
Prince's beefsteak, above described, it being either 
a thick steak for one or two, or a whole tenderloin 
for a party, cooked inside of the two other steaks, 
the gravy from which is pressed and poured over 
the fillet. There are seasonings and other addi- 
tions, but that brings us to espagnole It was the 
meat gravy that made such a dish valuable and does 
so yet. It was the imaginary excellence of the 
gravy that made it a wonder and the wonder has 
passed away. 

It makes but little difference how the gravy or 
meat essence may be obtained. If you broil a few 



small but thick beefsteaks rare done and pile them 
on a warm dish the blood gravy will run in the 
dish, perhaps a cupful. But, considering that 
rather insipid you manage to add to it a flavor of 
soup vegetables by adding them and some water 
and boiling until the water has all evaporated and 
you strain off the espagnole. That is the original 
pure article as Littre, the great" French lexico- 
grapher, defines it, but the cooks have gone a little 
further and improved the flavor with the savor of 
roast meat. The same gravy as that from your dish 
of steak is obtained as beef tea in a bottle. You cut 
or chop some lean beef, put it in a bottle without 
any liquid added, set the bottle in a saucepan of 
cold water over the fire and let it heat up gradually. 
In an hour you can pour out the cupful of beef tea, 
the juice of the meat; rich but insipid and needs 
vegetables and seasonings to make a sauce of it. 

These are illustrations of the result to be arrived 
at, but the real way, on a large scale, as directed 
by Groffe, Francatelli and the others is to put the 
vegetables and other seasonings in with the meat in 
a saucepan with butter spread on the bottom and 
the kinds of meat selected for their fitness, draw- 
ing the gravy by slow heat — much as we have 
described as very bad roasting of our home cooks — 
allowing the gravy so drawn to become light brown 
on the bottom, then pouring off the butter and fat 
from the meat and putting in broth instead, and 
when the gravy (or glaze as it has then become) 
has dissolved thickening it with flour baked brown 
in butter, straining, simmering and skimming it 
until bright and velvety in appearance. That is 
the espagnole of the books. Put a dozen ladlefuls 
in a dozen different saucepans and add different 
articles to eaeh and you have a dozen different 
sauces and ragouts. 



This has all been done in a saucepan on top of 
the fire because in past times there were no such 
ranges as we use at present and the baking pans 
with their jnicely roased meats were not there to 
work with. But the evident richness of the gravy 
that is found on the bottom of the pan in which a 
lot of turkeys or chickens have been roasted to per- 
fection has forced that kind of smice into use 
through the mere operation of common sense and 
we wish to say in the plainest language possible, 
for the benefit of those who need to be benefited 
by the assurance that this pan gravy is to nil intent') 
and purposes and in all essential respects the same 
thing as espagnole. We mean not only from the 
pans of poultry, but of all roast meats, although 
beef well roasted will furnish the least. The differ- 
ences of the ways of proceeding arise from the old 
ways being intended for saucepan coo'.iing and open 
roasting fires, and the new way being for closed 
ranges. It is observable that all the cooks now 
who put their directions in print, acknowledge this 



330 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



pan gravy as brown sauce, and we know for a fact 
that cspagnole, as it used to be, is made in but very 
few places. There can be a most detestable article 
made and used as brown sauce and so also there is 
often a most execrable cspagnole, scorched and vile ; 
it is a matter of intelligence and skill in both cases. 
Some kinds of meat make a light reddish and pleas- 
ant looking brown sauce, other kinds are dark and 
dull. In order to insure a rich sauce put in some 
shanks of veal and other trimmings to cook slowly 
in the pan before it is time for the roasts to go in, 
and after the roasts come out use soup stock that 
has vegetable eeasonings in it to make the gravy or 
brown sauce with, instead of putting in water. 
The full and particular directions have been already 
given in the different articles on " How to Boast 
Meats." Bead Nos. 1022, 1062 and 1063. 



1173. Blond— Veloute— White Sauce. 

It is not necessary to add much to what is already 
written to make this plain to any comprehension. 
We have instanced beef tea or gravy for brown 
sauce and other meats are added to give color and 
richness, such as veal and wild rabbits. But it 
was noticed that fowls and veal yielded a natural 
gravy that had no color and their extract flavored 
in the boiling was thickened with a mixture of flour 
and butter not browned and that was and is veloute. 
In common practice take the broth in which chick- 
ens have been boiled, add to it a shank of veal and 
celery and other soup vegetables and boil down 
until it is condensed and rich, thicken, not too 
much ; strain, simmer and skim it and that is white 
sauce. Boil down thicker yet, then add boiling 
cream to bring it to its former consistency again 
and a little butter, and that is Bechamel — named 
for a noted cook. These have also been given plain 
directions in f jrmer articles. 

1174. Soup Making. 

The operation of hotel soup making has a good 
deal of similarity to that pleasing trick of parlor 
magic in which a dozen empty glasses are placed 
ready, and out of the same bottle the operator pours 
into one of them red wine, into another white, an- 
other brandy or ale, another milk and so forth ; 
the changes of color being caused by the different 
chemicals the glasses have heen rinsed with pre- 
viously, and other chemicals contained in the bottle. 
In making the daily soups the stock boiler is our 
bottle, and the soup pots with their different con- 
tents the glasses. 



1175. Clear Soups. 

There are two divisions in which soups are 
classed, the thick soups or potages and the thin 
clear soups or consommes. In some hotels one of 
each class appears at every dinner. You can make 



as many clear soups as you can full soups and of 
the same material. There can be a turtle soup 
almost like gravy and again a clear turtle which 
you can see the bottom of the tureen through, it is 
so transparent, although rich, and every square- 
cut piece of meat and turtle egg shows clean and 
distinct. You can make a green pea soup thick as 
cream, and also again make a clear consomme with 
green peas in it whole, that neither settle to the 
bottom nor float on top, because the consomme, al- 
though clear as oil, is rich and dense. So you can 
have these clear soups with rice in whole grains, or 
tapioca, barley, vermicelli, macaroni, alphabet 
pastes, vegetables cut in shapes, asparagus points, 
cauliflower in little flowrets, and custards both 
white and yellow, also small quenelles or meat- 
balls, always in small proportions, and it is not 
much out of the way to compare them in appear- 
ance to gold fish in a globe of fresh water, because 
in these consommes there must be no crumbs and 
specks, each article being cooked separately and 
washed free from flour and scraps before being put 
into the clear finished consomme. These clear 
soups may also be of different colors, such as green 
colored with spinach juice, brown or amber with 
the color from roasted fowls, or clear white, or beet 
juice pink. However the amber or brandy color is 
the best. 



1176. Full Soups. 

It helps, when the daily question comes up, 
" What kind of soup shall we have ? " to have a list 
of the different varieties in mind like this : 

1. Gravy soups — brown meat soups, such as beef, 
ox-tail, mock turtle, mulligatawney, etc. 

2. Cream soups, such as French cream, cream of 
barley, etc. 

3. Puree soups — many different sorts made by 
thickening with a paste of something pounded 
through a strainer, from puree of partridge or 
chicken to puree of potatoes or beans. 

4. Fish soups for Fridays. 

5. Vegetable soups -variations of all the others, 
like chicken with cauliflower, and Scotch broth 
with mutton in dice and barley, etc. 

All these varieties of soup are made out of the 
same stock, generally, but in the best fixed estab- 
lishments there will be two boilers of stock, one 
with the meats rich in osmazome — the beef tea 
kinds — the other with the white meats. The im. 
practicables tell us to purchase several different 
kinds of meat suitable for the different varieties of 
soup, as might be proper if there were but one din- 
ner to be prepared, but as in every place where 
cooking goes on constantly there must always be a 
large amount of soup material on hand, instead of 
choosing the kinds of meat we choose which are 
the most suitable soups to make at the moment 
When the stock is mostly of beef make the gravy 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



33! 



soups. When veal predominates make veal soups, 
fish soups and mock turtle. Sometimes, once a 
week perhaps, there will be an excess of lamb and 
mutton ; then keep out all the fat possible and 
make barley, turnip, tomato and vegetable soups 
and Scotch broth, for all of these are best made 
with a portion of mutton in the stock. 

And when there is but little soup material of any 
sort on hand and the stock is not rich is the day to 
make a cream soup or one of oysters or clams that 
takes milk instead of stock. 

1178. The Stock Boiler. 

It is an object to have plenty of stock and plenty 
Of room in the stock boilers to make it, and also to 
be careful with it, not to make more soup than is 
needed, because instead of throwing away the large 
quantity it should be condensed to greater richness, 
and whatever stock can be saved from the soup is 
wanted to be boiled down to put into the gravy pan 
instead of water to make the rich espagnole that 
French cookery sets so much va'ue upon — the beef 
stock for that, the chicken and veal stock for the 
white sauce. You may not have use for more than 
a quart of sauce of those kinds, yet it will take 
three or four quarts of stock to boil down to make 
it of the best quality. 

It is against all the science of cookery to let the 
stock boiler be in too hot a place aud boil hard. 
That is the objection brought against the steam stock 
boilers in some places; the cooks say they can not 
regulate them and the stock goes on at a gallop- 
French authorities say the stock should only 
"smile " — meaning to simmer gently. Some of the 
largest public establishments have two regular stock 
boilers, steam-heated, that hold from 80 to 100 gal- 
lons each and another one or two of about 60 gal- 
lons for boiling chickens and turkeys, hams, corned 
beef, and tongues. Commonly the rule is that there 
must be thirty gallons of room in the stock boiler 
for every fifty persons a house entertains. Room 
for the soup material and the water; room for the 
false bottom that holds the meat up from burning, 
and room to prevent boiling over. Thirty gallons 
is about the size of a flour barrel ; forty-five gallons 
is the capacity of a whisky barrel. In a house that 
entertains 200 people the moveable stock boiler that 
has to be set on top of the range becomes a rather 
troublesome affair. It is seldom large enough for 
true economy. If made of galvanized iron, double 
bound, it lasts but a few months. The only durable 
kind is made of thick copper and they take two 
men to handle them. Generally there has to be two 
and it requires considerable good management to 
keep them from monopolizing the top of the range 
it the wrong times. 

1179. Management. 

Setting on the stock boiler comes immediately 



after the meat cutting and th» pieces and soup 
bones should not have to lie over till the next day 
to lose their best flavor through exposure and dry- 
ing. Drop them fresh cut into the clean boiler and 
fill up with cold water, remembering always that 
cold water draws out the juices of meat to enrich 
soups and stews and hot water seals up the meat 
and shuts them in. Read directions about the soup 
material at No. 992— page 262. Set the boiler on 
the range to heat up gradually. If a large one and 
full it will be slow enough to reach a boil no matter 
on what part of the range it is placed. Skim it as 
soon as the boiling begins. 

The best flavored soup is that for which the stock 
simmers only six hours. There may be a pleasant 
tasted bouillon or beef broth taken oif when it has 
cooked only one hour, but not much of the nutri- 
ment is then obtained, and again a sort of meat 
porridge after twelve hours' boiling when every- 
thing is dissolved but the bones, but this is only a 
cheap and nutritious food and has no delicacy of 
taste left. Six hours' slow boiling, as above 
remarked, is a good rule to go by. Then there is a 
difficulty to be met. If you set the boiler on in the 
afternoon, it simmers along until after supper and 
the fire is allowed to go out, the boiler remains 
there [warm possibly for ten hours or eight or at 
any rate six, before the fire again raises it to a heat 
that prevents spoiling. In that lukewarm condition 
it is very likely to acquire a bad taste that even the 
French name that you will give the soup next day 
will not quite cure. 

Beside that, the meaty particles settle to the bot- 
tom when the boiling ceases and by the time the 
fire is made in the morning there is a compact coat- 
ing that is extremely liable to burn sooner than the 
stock will boil. 

These things can be prevented, but it is the care 
and watchfulness required that makes really good 
cooks so scarce. Still, certain times and rules may 
be established in the kitchen by observing which 
even the most heedless helper may do all that is 
required. 

Where there is night cooking going on or a night 
watch, it is a simple matter to take the boiler off the 
range when it has boiled long enough, or, what is 
better, to draw off the stock at the faucet, having 
first taken off the two quarts or two gallons — as the 
case may be — of clear fai from the top, and letting 
it cool and settle in the new vessel. 

But where there is no such night attendance the 
way is to set the boiler on late enough so that it 
will not much more than boil before the fire is done 
with ; then, instead of letting the fire out keep a 
slow one with coal dust to maintain the simmering 
heat for several hours. 

In the morning before the fire is started, if you 
draw off the clear stock at the faucet near the bot- 
tom of the boiler, you will see what is meant by 



332 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



clear consomme ; it will be almost clear enough for 
ordinary clear soups as it is, and will be more or 
less like melted jelly in appearance according to 
the degree of richness. When half of it has been 
drawn off and the gravy portion begins to show 
take another pan or boiler to hold it for making the 
strong soup and brown Bauce — but make both lots 
hot as soon sis possible, if you can not make them 
ice cold instead, for fear of souring. 

It is a rule, then, that whoever builds the fire in 
the range in the morning must first draw off the 
stock and take down the boiler. 

As another precaution against spoiled stock avoid 
putting into the boiler any essence of meat or 
chicken broth or anything else that has salt in it, 
because salt starts fermentation as soon as the 
temperature is right. 

It is one of the hard conditions of living in this 
mean world that there can be no real excellence 
without labor either of hands or head or both. 
When you read of a great cook who gets three 
thousand dollars a year and apparently (according 
to the favorite way of telling it) does nothing but 
wear a gold watch and draw his salary, you may 
be sure that in realily he is going around establish- 
ing rules for preventing things going wrong and 
seeing to it that the rules are observed, and the 
same sort of capable man in a lesser position avoids 
the mishaps by attending to the precautions himself. 

A cook receives half his salary for making every 
article good and the other half for preventing any- 
thing from ever going to the table bad; some can 
not or don't want to be efficient in both directions, 
consequently they never get above half pay 



1180. Good Soups. 

A few months ago the writer stopped ra a hotel 
one day for dinner, and at the same table there 
was a little party of three who had been in the 
house probably a week or two. 

One of the ladies was immensely amused at some- 
thing. In a half aside she said to her neighbor: 
" Why, it's only hash ! " 

"Oh," expostulated the elder lady, "youshould'nt 
order those things, they always turn out that 
wa ." 

"How strange," — said the other; "the bill of 
fare gives it such a grand name — see, a la Mont- 
morenci. I thought it was something good." 

" There is one thing to be said for this house," — 
the other replied — "you can always depend upon 
the soups. I had never imagined that they could 
be made so enjoyable." 

The reputation of the table was saved in that 
instance by the soup when a la Montmorenci had 
nearly ruined it. 

Evarybody takes soup. The exceptions are so 
few a3 not to be worth counting. The motive for 



having two soups at once is to suit all tastes, for 
some can not indulge in the rich gravy soups with 
impunity, and they take the light consomme; others 
object to cream soups and purees that they take 
away the appetite for dinner, and others again dis- 
like tomato soups or other special kinds and they 
take the alternative of the consomme with peas or 
rice. 

To follow up the refinements of soup-making, 
however, takes up lots of time. A cook who knows 
what he is trying to do can stand an hour over the 
soup-boiler, clarifying, skimming and improving it, 
and one soup is all that can be attended to in most 
of the busy kitchens. It is found that if that one 
soup is made good invariably not only do most of 
the special aversions gradually fade away, but 
many people pay it the silent compliment of making 
a dinner of soup and only one more course, it may 
be fish, or an entree, or pastry, but soup always. 

Although in favor of two soups each day where 
it can be compassed we give but one at a time in the 
following examples, the different kinds alternating 
so as to be suitable to put two days together. 

The wonderful increase in the common affection 
for the tomato flavor has to be recognized in the 
fullest degree. It seems singular that a vegetable 
which was, in the memory of some still living 
regarded as poisonous and grown only for an orna- 
ment, should have become of the first importance, 
although still an object of dislike to many. Cooks 
should take care to treat it only as a flavoring as 
they would some herbs, and not use it in more than 
one dish each meal and it need not then be offen- 
sive to any, while they may be pleased who like it 
in sauces, in clam chowder, and even in turtle 
oup. 

First Day. 

Green Turtle Soup. 



Larded Fillet of Beef. 
Potted Breast of Chicken in Form. 
Stewed Mushrooms in Croustades. 
Blanquette of Sweetbreads and Oysters. 
Cream Fritters, glazed. 

1181. Green Turtle Soup. 

Any tolerably good cook now can make a meat 
soup of beef and veal and add canned turtle to it, 
with wine and lemon and he makes a turtle soup 
that is good in a general way without being quite 
the proper thing. It is doubtful, however, whether 
any one ever made the genuine old aldermanic 
green turtle soup by directions alone without ex- 
ample. 

It is called so because made of the green sea 
turtle, but it has also a green tinge imparted by the 
"puree of turtle herbs" and the use of these and 
the different cooking of different parts of the turtle, 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



the preparation of flour thickening and the quenelle 
making all take up six or eight different saucepans 
and make the matter hopelessly obscure without a 
plentiful sprinkling of the reasons why. 

The green tinge can not be insisted on, and indeed 
is rarely seen because, of the herbs, sweet basil is 
practically unknown in this country and thyme, 
marjoram and savory are to be obtained by the 
many only in their dry state. However, a large 
proportion of parsley can be used, a small amount 
of green chives and green onions and very young 
celery leaves just raised from the seed. 

Every cook should know that when these are but 
just dipped in boiling water they turn to a deep 
green, but if long cooked they lose their green color. 
That is the sense of some of the complex instruc- 
tions. Ude was so particular he picked all the little 
leaves off the herbs to be scalded and pounded for 
coloring at last and boiled the stalks alone in the 
soup for flavor. Sweet basil has the flavor of cloves 
and that spice is the substitute for it. 

There are four kinds of meat in a turtle, and the 
fins furnish another, and, beside the desire to give 
to each plate a sample of each kind, they cook in 
different lengths of time — the fat in half an hour 
— the soft white meat in an hour ; the coarse meat 
and fins in two or three hours, the shells and bones 
in six hours, and the skillful preparation of the 
soup requires that none of the parts that go in the 
plates be "boiled to rags," but all neat and trim. 
Hence the cooking different parts in different ves- 
sels, each with some seasonings, and bringing all 
the parts, liquors and all into the one soup at last. 
A cook who is crowded for time and range room if 
he knows the object of certain proceedings can 
often take a short-cut to reach the same result with 
half the trouble, precisely as in cooking a mixed 
lot of fowls you put the hardest to cook at the bot- 
tom and the chickens at top where they can be taken 
out as soon as done and kept on a dish until the 
others are finished. 

Turtle soup is expected to be a plate full and as 
thick with meat and quenelles (or turtle eggs) as an 
oyster stew is with oysttrs. Some of the noted 
turtle soup makers persist in calling the soup itself 
the sauce, regarding the pieces of meat as the prin- 
pal part. 

Probably a good many cooks have met with the 
remark that "it is no longer the fashion to put 
quenelles or egg balls in turtle soup," but they 
should not take any notice of it. A noted cook 
wrote that along with his directions a hundred 
years ago and a thousand " made-up " cook books 
have copied both the directions and the remark 
since then ; but meantime the fashions have been 
changing back aud forth and egg balls are very 
much in fashion now if the cook has only the time 
and the skill to make them. 



For soup for fifty persons you require : 
A 50-pound turtle. 

5 gallons of soup-stock — about 2 pails. 
4 onions — i pound. 

1 teaspoonful whole cloves. 
Same of allspice. 

2 blades of mace. 
2 bay leaves. 

Herbs, either green or dry. 
1 pound of slices of raw ham. 

1 pound of fresh butter — 2 cups. 
12 ounces of flour — 3 cups. 
Salt, pepper and cayenne. 

2 lemons. 

1 pint of Madeira. 

It is expected to make three gallons of soup after 
reduction by boiling. 

The turtle will have been cut up the night before, 
(see No. 1017) the meat laid on dishes, the fat in 
ice water in the refrigerator, and the shells in 
pieces. Peel off the horny covering that has been 
loosened by the previous scalding. 

The stock will have been prepared also in the 
usual way over night with care that it contains 
only beef, veal and fowl for the ingredients. 

Very early in the morning draw off the stock 
from the faucet clear — the fat will not come, but 
remains higher up in the boiler. Put the turtle 
shells at the bottom of a clean boiler, cover with 
the clear stock, boil, skim off all that rises, and 
then lav in the pieces of turtle meat. Let simmer 
a good while at the side of the range with the lid 
on. Take out the glutinous parts first and the 
others as they become tender. If in haste, you 
will have to put them in ice water in order to get the 
meat separated from the bone — but perhaps you can 
let them cool on dishes in the refrigerator. Cut all 
the cooked turtle meat you have obtained into neat 
squares and keep it ready for the finish, but put 
the bones and head back in the boiler to make the 
soup richer, and at the same time put in the season- 
ings, that is, one of the onions, all the spices, the 
peel of half a lemon, a little black pepper, and if 
you have no green herbs but parsley you can put 
in a small teaspoonful each of powdered thyme and 
savory and keep the parsley for greening at last. 

Along in the middle of the morning or two hours 
before dinner, prepare the flavored thickening in 
this way: Cover the bottom of a large saucepan 
with the slices of raw ham, put in a pound of 
butter and then three or four onions cut in slices, 
and let them stew in the butter with the lid on. In 
a short time they cease stewing and begin to fry 
which must be immediately stopped —put the flour 
in, stir all up and either set the saucepan a short 
time in the oven with the door open or let cook on 
the top with care not to let the flour get more than 
a very pale color. When that is done dip some 
soup into it, stirrine; it smooth, until the saucepan 



334 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



is full when the whole mixture of ham, onions, but- 
ter, baked flour and soup may all be turned back 
into the boiler to save room and the use of so many 
vessels, there to continue boiling'gently for half an 
hour. Then strain the soup through a fine strainer 
into the regular soup pot, let it simmer and the but 
ter will rise and can be skimmed off. Put in the 
juice of a lemon with a spoonful of cold water and 
scum will rise and can be skimmed off, making the 
soup bright. Add the salt, little cayenne and then 
the turtle meat and green rat (if any when a larger 
sized turtle is used) already cut in inch squares. 
Scald and pound the green herbs already mentioned 
through a seive and add them for greening, but if it 
can not be green make the soup a rich brown in- 
stead. Add the juice of another lemon and the 
wine in the tureen. 

The turtle eggs, if any, should be stewed separ. 
ately in a little soup and added last. Egg balls for 
a substitute can be made either with hard-boiled 
yolks pounded with a raw yolk to bind them, or 
with any kind of white meat pounded and mixed 
with yolks, and can have parsley mixed with them 
enough to make them green— all matters of individ. 
ual fancy. So also are the additions to the soup of 
a pinch of curry powder, a spoonful of anchovy 
sauce or minced lemon peel or mushroom liquor. 
They are not essential and had better be left out. 



Live turtles range in price from 8 to 20 or 25 
cents per pound. The clear meat in them is but a 
small proportion of the gross weight. 



1182. Larded Fillet of Beef. 

Having taking out the fillet as shown at No. 989, 
shave down the suet so that there will be a covering 
of it about as thick as a steak left on the meat- 
Then raise the edge of the fat, separate it from the 
fillet and lay it over without detaching the other 
edge, so that it will be ready to cover the fillet with 
again after the larding is done. The skin of the 
upper surface should be raised along with the fat 
and should be scored across to prevent drawing up 
in the oven. 

Prepare half a pound of strips of fat bacon or 
pork. The pork is better because milder if a piece 
firm enough to bear inserting can be found. Cut 
in slices, then in strips, about half a finger's length, 
a little thinner than a common pencil, all alike in 
thickness and with one end slightly tapered to enter 
the larding needle easily. Roll them in white pep- 
per and salt. Commence at the thick end with the 
larding. Insert a strip of bacon in the end of the 
larding needle, using another needle to assist, and 
draw it through the top part of the meat pinched 
up for the purpose. One end of each strip so in- 
serted will be left leaning backward and the other 
forward on the surface. Insert six or more in an 
even row across. One inch forward insert another 



row, so alternating that the ends will fall between 
those of the first row. Keep on till near the end. 
Cut off the thinnest part of the fillet. 

Cover the larded fillet with the sheet of fat. 
Make a long and narrow baking pan hot in the oven 
with a tablespoonful of salt and ladleful of drip- 
pings and water enough to keep the pan from 
burning. Put in also a slice of turnip, carrot and 
onion and stalk of celery and the meat scraps 
trimmed from the fillet. Have the oven hot, pui in 
the fillet and roast with the fat covering it half an 
hour. Then take of the fat, baste the fillet with the 
contents of the pan and allow about fifteen minutes 
more for the larding to brown handsomely while 
you baste it several times, causing a glossy surface 
to dry upon it. A gravy will flow from the fillet 
quite copiously when it is cut, which should be 
mixed with the made sauce at the time of serving. 

To make the sauce let all the remaining moistnre 
dry out of the pan, so that the clear grease can be 
poured off without the gravy, which will be found 
stic' iug to the pan. Add a ladleful of stock and 
liquor from a can of mushrooms. Boil up, thicken 
slightly, Btrain into a saucepan, boil aud skim, and 
then add a little wine and cayenne. 

Carvo in small slices laid well up to one end of 
the individual dish with a spoonful of sauce at the 
other ; or, for a large dish send it in entire, with a 
border of the finest button mushrooms obtainable, 
made hot in the sauce. 



1183. Potted Breast of Chicken in Form. 

Avail yourself of the fancy shapes of stamped 
tin patty pans for individual entrees of a delicate 
sort. The oval or long diamond form with scolloped 
sides are the best, but any sort from a plain muffin 
ring up will do, if small. 

Provide 24 of these small molds. 

4 large chickens. 

1J cupfuls of bread panada. 

J cupful of butter. 

J cupful minced salt pork. 

2 whites of eggs. 

1 tablespoonful of minced parsley. 

White pepper or cayenne, salt, nutmeg. 

1 pint of cream sauce. 

J cupful finest green peas. 
Tender chickens only can be used this way. Take 
off the breasts raw with a small knife. Divide each 
aide int» three, the small fillet that lies next the 
breast bone makes one, the larger part of the breast 
split lengthwise makes two more. Each chicken fur- 
nishes, therefore, six of these bands of white meat. 
When they are trimmed along the edges aud free 
from skin and sinew butter the small molds and lay 
a fillet smooth side down in each and keep them 
cold until the forcemeat is ready. 

Boil the remaining parts of the chickens about an 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



333 



hour, pick off all the meat free from skin and except 
any that may be very dark, mince it fine and then 
pound it to a paste. Add the panada (No. 962), 
the seasoning of minced pork and half the butter 
and the parsley, and white of eggs whisked light, 
and salt and pepper. Pound all together. 

Then fill the prepared molds with the forcemeat, 
placing a little on each side of the breast of chicken 
at first carefully, not to let the meat be pushed 
from the center, press in well and level off. Steam 
in the vegetable steamers or bake, set in a pan of 
water about half an hour. Turn them out as they 
are ordered, fresh and with the juice that will have 
formed upon them. Pour a spoonful of smooth 
cream sauce around and sprinkle a dozen green 
peas with a fork, for ornament. 

1184. 



Stewed Mushrooms In Crou- 
stades- 



Empty a can of small button mushrooms without 
the liquor into a bright saucepan with an ounce of 
butter and let them become hot. Throw in a tea- 
spoonful of minced parsley and add a few spoonfuls 
of the sauce from the fillet of beef. Cut ten slice 9 
of bread with a scollop cutter in oval shape to fit 
the small dishes, and half an inch thick, and mark 
the shape of a lid around with a knife point, not 
cutting through. Fry light colored and drain. 
Lift out the lid piece and as they are called for 
serve a spoonful of the mushrooms and sauce in 
each croustade. The piece removed need not be 
replaced. Let there be sauce enough for a spoon- 
ful in the dish to moisten the crust. 



1185. 



Blanquette of Sweetbreads and 
Oysters. 



1186. Cream Fritters. 

Called beignets de bouillie by the French, and 
bouillie (not bouilli) means pap or baby food. We 
can not help it, however, if the grown people cry 
for them, glazed with transparent wine sauce, 
The English have a better name, which is palm tree 
pudding, in allusion perhaps to the appearance of 
a number of the spike shaped pieces arranged in 
order in a dish when all is served at once. 

It is a sort of sliced custard breaded and fried, 
made of 

1 quart of milk. 
6 ounces of sugar. 

6 ounces of mixed corn starch and flour. 

7 yolks of eggs. 

2 ounces of butter. 
Flavoring. Salt. 

Boil the milk with the butter and salt in it. Mix 
the sugar in the starch and flour dry and dredge 
and beat them into the boiling milk. Let it cook 
slowly at the side of the range about ten minutes. 
Stir in the yolks of eggs and take it off. Flavor 
with lemon, cinnamon, nutmeg or vanilla and let it 
get cold in a buttered pan. Roll the slices in egg, 
then in cracker meal, fry in lard, serve warm with 
the sauce No. 490, made thick enough not to run 
off, and simmered until it has become quite trans- 
parent. 



4 calves' sweetbreads. 

2 dozen oysters. 

1 pint cream sauce. 

Lemon juice, cayenne, salt. 

Mashed potato borders. 
Boil the sweetbreads until tender, in water, sea- 
soned with salt, pepper and vinegar. Take them 
up, trim and cut in neat squares like large dice. 
Put the oysters in a deep strainer and dip them in 
the sweetbread liquor one minute to shrink them, 
turn on to a plate and cut them in halves Mix 
sweetbreads and oysters together by shaking in a 
small saucepan with a squeeze of lemon and dust of 
cayenne and cover with boiling cream sauce just be- 
fore wanted. Form rings of mashed potato on the 
dishes with a cornet and serve the white fricassee 
piled in the center. The sauce should salt the whole. 
You can form a thin potato border handsomely with 
the cheese scoop that they gouge out a pineapple 
cheese with. Blanquette is from blanc, white, like 
blanch and blank, and means a white dish. 



Study of Notable Menus. 

Banquet given in London complimentary to a 
popular tragedian, July, 1883. Covers laid for 520 
guests. The words in quotation marks are but 
allusions to certain plays. 

MENU. 

POTAGES. 

Tortue Claire a la " Rialto." 
Bisque a la " Prince de Danemark," 

POISSONS. 

Saumon d' Ecosse. 
Filets de Soles, sauce " Matthias." 

ENTREES. 

Mazarine de Volaille a la " Courier de Lyon." 
Chaudfroid de Cailles a la " Richelieu." 

RELEVES 

Quartier d'Agneau. 
Aloyau de Boeuf. Selle de Mouton. 

REMOVES. 

Poulardes Bardees. Caneton aux Cressons. 

Salade a la "Doricourt," 

ENTREMETS. 

Mayonnaise de Homard. 

Tartelettes de Peches. 

Creme a la " Bon Voyage." 

Geleeala "Benedick." Gateaux "Freres de Corse." 

Pouding Glace. 

DESSERT. 



336 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



TRANSLATION. 

Soots.— Clear turtle (No. 1187) — Bisques are 
soups thick with a paste of fish or birds and choice 
morsels of the meat. 

Fishes.— Scotch salmon, as in this country we 
say Kennebec or California salmon— Fillets of soles 
with a sauce (No. 967). 

Entrees. - Mazarine of fowl— same sort of article 
as No. 1183. probably large form— Chaudfroid of 
quails. No. 1191 is a chaudfroid, but we have no 
such word ; styles of putting up various. 

Eeleves.— Quarter of lamb— Sirloin of beef- 
Saddle of mutton. 

Removes.— Chickens roasted in bands of bacon 
like No 1055— young ducks with cress (No. 1072) 

—Salad. 

Entremets.— Lobster in mayonnaise (No. 746)— 
Peach tartlets (No. 72)— Cream (No. 180)— Jelly 
(No, 208)— Cakes, Iced pudding (No. 127). 

The banquet was served by a catering firm. The 
floral decorations were elaborate and the affair was 
a pronounced success. 



Second Day. 

Clear Turtle Soup. 



meat as it appears to be done and putting it away to 
become cold, after which take the bones out and 
return them to the boiler, along with the onions, 
spices and herbs and the rind of half a small lemon 
and the mushrooms or liquor from a can. 

Two hours before dinner strain off the soup into 
a deep jar or pail, let stand one-half hour and skim 
off the top. Pour it without sediment through a 
fine strainer into a large saucepan and proceed to 
clarify it. Squeeze in the juice of a lemon, then 
add the whites of eggs mixed with a cup of cold 
water and the piece of raw beef chopped like 
sausage meat. Set it on the fire and when the egg 
is well cooked in it pour it through a napkin, laid 
inside a strainer, twice. Put in such pieces of 
turtle as will not float and eggs or egg-balls pre- 
viously cooked and free from fragments. If any 
green fat simmer the pieces iu soup separately and 
add a piece in each plate. Wine and thin quarter 
slices of lemon to be added just before serving. 
Let the soup be amber colored. It is troublesome 
to have this soup ready too long before dinner as a 
skin forms on top that may neeessi'ate another 
straining if the clear appearance is to be preserved- 



Lamb cutlets with vegetables- 
Potted pigeons with jelly. 
Stuffed tomatoes. 
Minced quail in border. 



1187. Clear Turtle Soup. 

A 40-pouud turtle — or selected meat kept over 

from a larger one of a previous day. 
4 gallons of soup stock. 
2 onions. 

1 can of mushrooms. 

A bunch of chives and parsley — good handful. 
1 teaspoonful of whole cloves. 
1 bay leaf, a blade of mace. 
1 pound raw ham. 

1 pound of raw beef. 
Salt and cayenne. 

8 whites of eggs. 

2 lemons. 

1 cupful Madeira. 

It is expected to make 2 gallons of soup after 
reduction by boiling and clearing. 

Have a good rich stock ready prepared, draw it 
off clear and without grease. 

Lav the slices of ham on the bottom of a clean 
boiler, place the turtle shells on that and cover 
them with the stock. Boil snd skim off, then put 
in the turtle meat and let simmer gently about two 
hours, looking at it frequently and taking out the 



It will be a great inconvenience should the clear 
soup be so excessively rich that it will not run 
through the napkin or jelly strainer after boiling 
with the beef and white of egg, especially if the 
trouble happen when time is short till dinner, 
Read the remarks concerning aspic jelly at No. 
735, and avoid the extreme of glutinous richness if 
clear soup is to be made. 



1188. Lamb Cutlets with Vegetables. 

12 lamb chops. 

1 peck of spinach — or other greens. 

24 small new potatoes. 

1 small cauliflower, 

4 ounces of butter. 

Little white sauce. 
Prepare the chops as for broiling; pepper and 
salt them, dip both sides in a little butter on a plate 
and lay them in a baking pan that they will just 
fill. 

Boil the spinach green; take it up before it is 
quite done, drain on a seive and press the water 
away from it, then rub it through a strainer with a 
little sauce mixed in to help it through Mix Ihe 
green pulp with an equal amount of butter sauce. 
Have the new potatoes ready steamed and the cauli- 
flower picked apart in branches. Cook the chops 
on the top shelf in a hot range about six or eight 
minutes, serve one to a dish with the gravy that 
collects upon them, the green sauce under them 
and the vegetables as ornaments at either side. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



337 



1189. Potted Pigeons with Jelly. 

12 pigeons. 

1 pound of sausage meat. 

J pound of butter. 

1 pint of broth. 

2 tablespoonfuls vinegar. 
Pepper, salt, Bpice. 

J cupful currant jelly. 

Flour and water paste. 
Clean the pigeons, split in halves down the back 
and breast, wipe dry, dredge with pepper and salt 
and ground allspice. Place a spoonful of sausage 
meat inside and press the two halves together 
again. Spread a cup of butter on the bottom of a 
s mall earthen jar, lay the pigeons close pressed 
down in the jar, put in a cup of broth and little 
vinegar. Cover the top with a lid of plain flour 
and water paste. (See No. 1042). Set in the oven 
in a pan of water early in the morning and let bake 
three or four hours. Dish up out of the jar with- 
out disarranging the stuffing and sauce with the 
jelly mixed with gravy. They should be very 
tender. Half a bird to an order is sulficieut at a 
plentiful dinner. 



1190. Stuffed Tomatoes 

20 tomatoes — large and smooth. 

6 cupfuls of fine bread crumbs — not pressed. 

2 tablespoonfuls finely minced onions. 

Same of minced fat bacon. 

1 teaspoonful of salt. 

Same of pepper. 

Same of sugar. 

1 egg- 
In case bacon is not *at hand use an ounce of 
butter. 

The intention is that all the inside except enough 
to make a case to bake in shall be taken out, seasoned 
and put back to bake, the tomato, therefore, should 
not be peeled. Cut a slice off the top, scoop out 
with a spoon into a strainer that will let the surplus 
juice run off. Chop the pulp with the edge of a 
spoon, mix the other articles with it and press into 
the tomatoes and round over the tops. Place close 
together in a buttered baking pan, dredge cracker 
meal on top and moisten with the back of a spoon 
dipped iu butter. Bake about one-half hour. 

1191. Minced Quail in Border. 

For twenty-four dishes provide : 
1 dozen quail. 
1 cupful raw rice. 
3 quarts of broth. 
Soup vegetables. 
6 ounces of butter — small cup. 
6 tablespoonfuls of flour — large cup. 
Seasonings. 



Cpok the rice as for a vegetable at dinner — that 
is, wash well and put it on in three cuj s of water 
and the lid shut down to keep the steam in. When 
done stir it up with salt and milk and smooth over 
the top. 

Take the breasts off the quails raw with a boning 
knife, split them into flat, broad slices, season with 
salt and simmer them laid close together in a pan 
with one ounce of butter or poultry fat. When 
done on b th sides without browning put a plate on 
top to press, and set them away to get cold. 

Break up the bones and legs, boil them in the 
broth with vegetables and parsley. When all the 
richness is extracted strain the liquor off and 
thicken it with flour stirred up with butter in the 
usual way. Make it rather thick, add cayenne, 
strain it, take off any butter that may rise. Cut 
the cold cooked breasts of quails in dice, size of 
peas — they are made cold first iu order that they 
may keep the shape — and mix them in the hot sauce 
just before dishing up. Make fancy borders on the 
individual dishes, quickly and easily, by cutting 
out small egg shapes from the rice with a teaspoon 
dipped first in butter. Place four or more on each 
side and dish the mince in the centre. A green leaf 
of parsley will relieve the whiteness of all. 



Supper and "fete of the season" under royal 
patronage at the Fisheries Exhibition, London, 
July 1883 : "The Princess Christian and 'a dream 
of fair women' were engaged in supplying refresh- 
ments at the modest charge of half-a-crown a glass. 
The Lady Mayoress presided over the American 
bar, where were dispensed such fancy drinks as 
'Bosom Caressers,' a 'Pousse V Amour,' a "Flash 
of Lightning,' manipulated by the skilled attend- 
ants of the caterers." After midnight a supper was 
served at cosy little tables, in the Prince's Pavilion, 
with the following 

MENU. 

Saumon a la Njrvegienne. 

Salade de Homard. Buissons de Crevettes. 

Filets de Soles a la Regence. 

Roulade d'Auguilles en Aspic. 



Cotelettes d'Agneau a la Printaniere. 
Croustade de Cailles a la Gelee. 



Galantine de Volaille aux Pistaches. 

Poularde pique. 

Jambon d'Yorck. 

Pate de Pigeon". 

Filet de Boeuf braisee. 

Langue a l'Ecarlate. 

Salade a la Russe. 

Salade a la Francaise. 



Suedoise aux Abricots. 

Gelee Macedoine. 

Meringues Chantilly. 

Mazarines glace. 

Dames d' Honneur. 



338 



THB AMERICAN COOK. 



TRANSLATION. 

Fish — Salmon, Norwegian etyle, probably orna- 
mented, this being a fish exhibition. Soyer says the 
Norwegian way is to boil the salmon >n sea or salt 
water and eat it with spiced vinegar — Lobster salad 
(No. 746) — Buissons of prawns (No. 749) — Fillets 
of soles with regency sauce — that is the liquor 
from stewed eels and vegetables, mixed with claret 
and brown sauce, with balls of fish forcemeat and 
mushrooms in the dishes for ornament. 

Roulade of eels in aspic — cold — large eels split 
open, boned, rolled up, cooked in that shape and 
put in ornamental jelly like Nos. 798 and 786. 

Hot Entrees. — Lamb chops with new vegetables, 
like No. 1188 — a H Printaniere means Spring-time 
style — Crcustade of quails — a " chaudfroid," or 
mince, like No. 1191 in ornamental cups of fried 
bread, and currant jelly in the dish. 

Cold. — Boned fowl, studded with pistachio nuts 
instead of truffles (No. 785) — pistachios are a kind 
of almond, green in color and costly, sometimes 
two dollars a pound — Poulard or young fowl- 
larded with bacon — York ham — because Yorkshire 
hams are reputed the best (No. 811) — Pigeon pie, 
oold, the pigeons boned and laid in a case of paste 
raised in a mold and lined first with forcemeat 
and bacon — Fillet of beef, well cooked with season- 
ings in a coverd pot — Corned tongue (No. 1077, 
see note) — Russian salad (No. 745) — French salad, 
anything, perhaps No. 740. 

Sweets and Pastry. — Swedish bombe or shell of 
Apricot ice with ice-cream inside, formed in a mold 
(see combinations at 73 and succeeding numbers). 
Macedoine jelly, different kinds minced and mixed 
(No. 208) — Meringues or egg kisses, with whipped 
cream inside (No. 189) — Mazarines glazed — the 
Mazarine of meat of a former menu is a case of 
forcemeat filled, these are pastry patties a la Maza- 
rin, round, the fruit jam iu=ide, pearl glaze (No. 2) on 
top, the same as No. 242. Maids of Honor, the old 
Virginia and probably old English name for cheese- 
cakes (Nos. 247, 290, 292) made with fine puff paste 
in the ratty pans instead of common short paste. 

The foregoing supper was served by a London 
catering firm. 



The pousse t amour referred to is made by filling 
a tall and slender wine glass half way up with 
maraschino, dropping in the yolk of an egg, ha'f 
filling the remaining space with vanilla cordial and 
filling up. with brandy without mixing the different 
parts. 

Third Day. 

Ox Tail Soup. 

Chicken pie — American style. 
Lambs' fries, sauteed m butter. 
Geese liners in cases. 
Peaches with rice. 



1192. Ox Tail Soup. 

The ox-tails must be cut up raw and stewed for 
two or three hours to make the meat quite tender- 
This is a gravy soup, aud while it may be bright, 
rich and free from grease, it should not be too fine 
strained. Ox tail clear will be found further on. 
Take 

3 gallons of beef soup stock. 
6 ox-tails. 

1 head of celery. 

2 carrots. 

2 turnips. 

6 cloves stuck in an onion. 

A bunch of herbs with a bay leaf tied up in it. 

3 cups of sifted flour for thickening. 
Pepper and salt. 

Cut the ox-tails in thin round slices by sawing, if 
you have a sharp little saw and plenty of time ; if 
not, with a sharp chopper ; wash, and then set 
them on to stew early in a saucepan of stock with 
salt and pepper in it. Cut the carrots and turnips 
in thin slices, samp out all the shapes they will 
make with a round cutter to match the pieces of ox- 
tail, and put them in water. Set on the stock with 
a fresh loin bone in it, the scraps of vegetables, the 
thin ends of the ox-tails that would not make slices, 
the celery, onions and herbs, and let boil. 

An hour before dinner time strain off into the 
soup pot through a coarse strainer, getting all the 
gravy partic.es ; throw in the vegetable slices, let 
them cook in it, and strain in the liquor from the 
stewed ox-tails. Mix up the flour with water and 
use it to thicken slightly. Add the ox-tail last. 
Before turning it into the tureen let the soup stop 
boiling and skim off the fat until no more rises. 

There should be two pieces of meat und two or 
three of vegetables served in each plate. 



1193. Chicken Pie —American Style. 



Read remarks about cutting up fowls for chicken 
pie at No. 1015. About eight large ones will be 
required for fifty persons. These weigh twenty-five 
pounds as they come to market unopened, or seven- 
teen or eighteen pounds net. The thirty-two choice 
cuts should be cooked in one saucepan and the 
necks, backs and hips in another. The supposition 
is that some will be left over and it had better be 
the rough portions than the best breast pieces. 
Some will not take chicken. When fowls of a 
larger size are used they will be fewer in number 
and the cuts must be divided accordingly. 

Many wayside inns have gained a reputation for 
their excellence in this popular dish and stjp-over 
tickets have been in request on that account. 

It does not make much difference whether the 
fowls are young or old, but those at the mature age 
of twelve months are the best, the essential point 
being to cook them until tender, and the next lie- 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



339 



cessity being a knack of plain seasonings to a 
degree that makes the pie savory. When you have 
good chicken pie the guests generally are indiffer- 
ent about the quality of the beef and mutton for 
that day at least. Take 

8 two-and-a.quarter-pound chickens. 

6 ounces of fat salt pork. 

8 ounces of butter (optional). 

1 onion — 2 ounces. 

1 tablespoonful good black pepper. 
Same of salt. 

2 cups of sifted flour for thickening, 

2 tablespoonfuls chopped parsley. 
And for the crust : 

3 pounds of flour 

2 pounds of beef suet. 
Little salt. 

Set the cut chickens on in a boiler with hot water 
to a little more than cover, cook with the lid on 
from one to three hours, according to kind. When 
there is a large quantity take care lest those pressed 
on the bottom stick and burn there and spoil the 
whole. 

Throw in the pork cut in squares, the minced 
onion, salt and half the pepper, and when the 
chicken is tender thicken the liquor moderately 
with the flour stirred up with a little milk. 

Make the paste by mincing the suet extremely 
fine, having it soft, then rubbing it into the flour, 
wet with water and roll it out same way as puff 
paste four or five times, to give it a flaky texture. 

Line the sides of a deep baking pan with paste, 
(but not the bottom) dip the pieces of chicken in 
with a skimmer, dredge the remainder of the pep- 
per over the top, sift a dust of flour over that, put 
in the butter and parseley, then all the chicken 
liquor it will hold without boiling over, roll out the 
remaining pie paste and cover it. Bake in a mod- 
erate oven three quarters of an hour. 

Better not brush over with egg wash, for a hotel 
dinner. There should not be enough gravy in the 
pie while baking to boil over the crust and make it 
heavy, but it can be kept ready in the boiler and 
poured in afterwards. 



1194. Lambs' Pries Sauteed in Butter. 

Lamb' 8 fries can be purchased of the market 
men who furnish sweetbreads nnd brains. Wash 
and then blanch them in boiling water containing 
salt and a dash of vinegar. Let them get cold. 
Split in two, pepper and salt and then flour them 
on both sides. When nearly time to serve put some 
butter in a large frying pan on the range and when 
it is melted and froths up lay in the lamb's fries 
and cook them brown on both sides. Serve hot 
with tomato sauce around in the dish and the butter 
still frothing upon them. 



1195 Geese Livers in Cases. 

This is a delicate entree made by lining the bot- 
toms of small paper cases with liver paste (like No. 
805, without the cut meats) on that lay a slice of 
raw goose liver, and on that a covering of the liver 
paste again, smooth over, brush with melted butter 
and bake in the cases in a slack oven about fifteen 
or twenty minutes or until the slice of liver inside 
is cooked through. Then pour a spoonful of sauce 
in each one and keep in the oven until served. For 
24 you require: 

24 fancy paper cases, procured from tha cook's 
supply stores, or made like shallow boxes at 
home. 
12 goose livers to slice— the scraps and 
A pound of poultry livers for the paste. 
J pound of fat bacon. 
.'. pound of bread panada. 
2 eggs. 
Seasonings. 
See Nos. 804 and 806 for particulars. 
It is not necessary to be exact in the kinds of 
seasonings; used, but herbs may be used instead of 
wine when there is wine in the sauce ; and the pan- 
ada will give a mild flavor to the paste without the 
use of chicken. 

Before using the paper cases brush them inside 
with clear butter and make them hot in the oven. 



1196. Peaches with Rice. 

30 halves of largest peaches in syrup. 

3 pints of cooked rice. 

1 cupful of red fruit jelly. 

Fine large peaches, already put up in syrup, can 
be used ; or, if fresh, they may be simmered in the 
oven in a pan containing a little syrup and butter. 
Baste them with the syrup and keep an oiled paper 
over until they are done. 

Cook rice as if for a vegetable, use but little salt 
but a spoonful of sugar instead. 

Mix the red jelly in the peach syrup for sauce. 

Put a spoonful of rice in the small dish, dip a 
spoon in butter or syrup so that the rice will not 
adhere, and make a neat shape of it, place the 
peach on top, pour a spoonful of sauce over all. 



Dishes a la Joinville are doubtless so named 
in compliment to a person, but whether a noted 
statesman of an earlier period or a recent Prince de 
Joinville it may be impossible now to determine. 
Crayfish and truffles are indicated by the name 
and the chief merit of both articles consists in their 
comparative scarcity and costliness. 



There is nothing definite in the term bouchees a la 
Seine (literally mouthfuls or morsels) or boudins or 
patties in the Queen's style, because so many varia- 



340 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



tions both of form and filling hear the same desig- 
nation and it can not be known which is t e orig- 
inal or whether there ever was one. The dish is 
said to have been originated by Marie, the wife of 
Louis XV., who was fond of good living. But that 
queen was a Polish princess, and Poland was 
famous before that time as a land of good living, 
good cookery and profuse hospitality and the bou- 
chees, as likely as not, were but introduced from 
that country's cuisine. And Bechamel, whose name 
is almost as frequently attached to patties or pastry 
bouchecs of chicken flourished in the service of the 
king preceding this one. The term is, therefore, 
but little more than a verbal ornament and you are 
to take the Queen's name for it that it is good, any- 
way. 



Study of Notable Menus. 

Dinner at Hotel Kaaterskill, Catskill Mountains, 

August 12, 1883, Edwurd A. Gillett, manager. One 

of the largest of American hotels. Heighth of the 

season. Probably 800 guests. 

MENU. 

Blue Point Oysters, en Coquille. 



Green Turtle 



Consomme, Printaniere. 



Bouchees de Volaille, a la Reiae. 



Boiled Salmon, a la Joinville, 

Broiled Spanish Mackerel, a la Maitre d' Hotel, 
Parisienne Potatoes, Cucumber Salad. 



Tenderloin of Beef, Larded, with Mushrooms. 



Baked Chicken Pie, a l'Americaine, 

Geese Liver, en Caisse, Italienne Sauce, 
Lamb Fries, Tomato Sauce, 

Peches, a la Conde. 



Sorbet Moscovite. 



Boiled Leg of Mutton, Caper Sauce, 

Boiled Chicken, Egg Sauce, 

Corned Beef and Cabbage. 



Roast Ribs of Beef, a l'Anglaise, 
Roast Lamb, Mint Sauce, 

Roast Duck, Stuffed, Apple Sauce, 



Mashed Potatoes, Boiled Potatoes, Green Corn, 
String Beans, Fried Egg Plant, Rice. 



Boned Capon, with Truffles, Beef Tongues, 

Cold Lamb, Ham and Chicken, 



Tomatoes and Lettuce, Plain or Mayonnaise, 
Chicken Salad. 



Apple Meringue Pie, Custard Pie, 

English Plum Pudding, Brandy Sauce. 

Assorted Cake. 

Champagne Jelly, Vanilla Ice Cream, 

Punch Cardinal, Boiled Custard. 

Fruit — Nuts and Raisins. 

English Dairy, Edam and Roquefort Cheese. 

Coffee. 



COMMENTS. 

Oysters — On shell (No. 864) — it is said that raw 
oysters are served at this table all through the sum- 
mer, seven to a plate, "rices high, business vast, 
all on a lavish scale. 

Soups — Green turtle (No. 1181) — Consomme 
printaniere or spring soup or with green vegetables 
(No. 1197). 

Bouchees — or patties to serve in this place are 
always small and generally made of two flats of fine 
puff paste with a teaspoonful of minced chicken, 
very highly seasoned, inclosed between them like 
No. 242, but the edges, wetted, are only pressed 
lightly together and not pinched. There are vari- 
ous other forms of patties and cases used. 

Fish — Boiled salmon (Nos. 920 and 922) and gar- 
nished with truffles and crayfish or prawns in the 
sauce — Parisian potatoes (No. 953) — Spanish mack- 
erel (Nos. 883, 886, and sauce 8S0) — cucumber 
salad (No. 772) — the cucumbers'are usually sliced, 
allowed to lie sprinkled with salt to draw the water, 
drained and shaken up with oil and vinegar. 

Entrees— Tenderloin or fillet (No. 1182) with 
small but'on mushrooms in sauce poured over the 
slices when served — chicken pie (No. 1193) — lambs' 
fries (No. 1194) — geese livers in cases (N». 1195) — 
peaches with rice (No. 1196). 

Sorbet — Moscovite or Russian — Sorbets is the 
French word for frozen punches, or ices that con- 
tain wines and liqueurs. 

Meats and Vegetables — See index. 

Cold Dishes — Boned capon with truffles — galant- 
ine as at No. 785 with the white meat inlaid with 
strips of black truffle and the trimmings of truffles 
mixed in the forcemeat. Truffles come in cans of 
various graded sizes, beginning at a dollar for about 
two ounces. Other cold meats and salads, see in- 
dex. 

Pastry — Apple cream pie as at No. 50, or 62, or 
53, with meringue on top (No. 42) — custard pie 
(No. 58) — plum pudding (No. 331) — champagne 
jelly (Nos. 202 and 203)— Vanilla ice cream (No. 84) 
Cardinal punch, red frozen punch made with port 
wine poured over a roasted orange, and sugar and 
water— for a red punch, see No. 135 — boiled cust- 
ard (Nos. 499 and 77) probably served in cups, 
very cold for those who are afraid to eat ices. 



Fourth Day. 

Clear Spring Soup. 

Stuffed loin of mutton. 

Small fillets of beef in glaze. 

Egg plant fried plain. 

Curried tripe — Italian. 
Apple fritters with sauce. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



341 



1197. Clear Spring Soup. 

The distinguishing feature is the addition of 
asparagus heads and green peas to a proportion of 
any other commoner kinds of vegetables in a clear 
consomme. 

We have no English word for consomme but broth 
and that does not express the same meaning 
Broth is the liquor in which meat has been boiled, 
consomme is the same liquor strained clear, per- 
haps clarified like jelly. It is pronounced in three 
syllables, though some old English books of cookery 
speak of " consumes " of meat and fowl in a very 
vague and misty manner. 

Consomme printaniere is one of the favorite varie- 
ties because of the handsome appearance of the 
vegetables when skilfully cooked green (No. 741). 
But these clear soups are not called for at table as 
much as the stronger kinds. Two gallons of clear 
soup is plenty where three of the^others would be 
consumed. Take 

2 gallons of consomme. 
1 cupful of very green peas. 
1 heaping cupful of asparagus heads. 
Same of little trimmed flowrets of cauliflower. 
Same of carrots, turnips and onions scooped 
out in shapes with a potato scoop, or else cut 
in neat dice shapes. 

The stock (which is but a grand broth of several 
kinds of meat) will have been seasoned in the boiler 
already with soup herbs and vegetables. When it 
is drawn off clear in the morning and strained 
through a silk sieve, it will be clear enough for this 
purpose. An hour before dinner bring it to a boil 
and skim it from the side. Season with salt and 
little cayenne, add a tablespoonful of burnt sugar 
both for color and mild flavor. 

Cook the vegetables separately, drain them out 
of the water into the tureen and pour the consomme 
to them 



1198. Stuffed Loin of Mutton. 

This is loin of mutton or lamb sliced down to the 
bone, a highly seasoned mince (salpicon) pressed in 
between the slices, tied to keep shape and baked 
tender. For the meat yju need four of those 
pieces that lie between figures 1 and 2 in the side 
of mutton at No. 997, and a boiled neck of mutton 
beside. For the stuffing take 

1 cupful of cooked meat finely minced. 

1 cupful of raw meat same way. 

1 slice of ham, or meat from a cooked knuckle 

— also minced. 

1 tablespoonful minced onion, a clove of garlic 

and a bayleaf, both minced, a teaspoonful of 

black pepper and same of salt. 

After thoroughly mixing these, taking care to 

have a small proportion of fat meat included, spread 



a little between the cuts, draw a twine around from 
end to end, crowd the pieces olose together in one 
pan, cover with oiled paper and bake not less than 
two hours with frequent basting. Make gravy in 
the pan as at No. 1062. 

To serve, take the slices from the bone, each with 
its portion of stuffing, and the strained gravy pour 



The pieces of mutton named above always accum- 
ulate in the hotel meat house because they will not 
make the shapely chops that are so much coveted 
and there is not sufficient demand for plain roast 
mutton. And yet the meat of this cut is of the 
best. If cooked with any of the savory stuffings 
that make chickens and turkeys good and roasted 
long enough to make them tender without drying 
• hem out they are soon brought into use. Half 
cooked meat mixed with half raw will set and hold 
the herbs and seasonings and be good, but if all 
cooked meat must be used an egg and little bread 
crumbs must be added to bind it together. 



1199. Small Fillets of Beef in Glaze. 

This simplest of dishes and prime favorite with 
the lovers of stewed meat we find among the dishis 
of Queen Victoria's dinners as " Les petits filets de 
boeuf dans leur glace." Sometimes it turns up in a 
menu as " Escalopes de boeuf en demi glace," because 
the natural gravy of the pieces of beef is boiled 
down to the condition known as half glaze. Fillet 
in this case does not mean tenderloin, but only a 
strip or band of meat, or, it is called a scollop if 
cut like very small steaks. Take 
3 pounds of lean scraps of beef. 
2 quarts of water. 

1 teaspoonful of black pepper. 

2 teaspoonfuls of salt. 

Cauliflower in branches, or small new potatoes 
for a border. 

The meat is the small lot of choice loin pieces 
that are not large or shapely enough for steaks 
(No. 992). Cut them into strips like fingers. Put 
them on three hours before dinner with cold water 
enough to cover them and the salt and pepper in i 
and let stew slowly. Skim off the fat 

There is nothing to add, nothing to do, but let the 
liquor boil down to rich gravy, so rich that it stays 
on the pieces of meat and makes them shine, and 
dish them up that way with potatoes scooped in ball 
shapes or something else to border the dishes. 



The cook who makes the entrees ought to be the 
one to dish them up, or else his second must be fully 
intelligent of the purpose and method. One-half 
the merit of the cooking done by a master of it, 
over the common, lies in the manner of placing the 
viands on the dishes. If you tumble a pile of meat 



S42 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



on a dish in a disorderly way (he little niceties of 
shaping, glazing, coloring, garnishing, and strain- 
ing and smoothing sauces into a velvety (veloute) 
appearance count for nothing; but if it is only 
three pieces of beef scraps stewed tender and pavory 
with iheir own natural gravy they should placed be 
in order, perhaps diagonally, in the dish, with the 
little garnishing accompaniment of whatever it may 
be, either siring beans cut in diamonds, or green 
peas or the like p'aced in two S'raight lines, also 
diagonally, acoss the ends. It is impossible to ex- 
plain the whys and wherefores of these trifles. But 
each dish becomes an ornament to its p'ace and the 
entire course is an invitation in itself. There must 
be'a'natural aptitude in ihe cook to understand this 
featme of the dinner making and then through all 
the necessary haste of the operations of serving 
dinner somehow that eff >rt at tasteful display makes 
a distinct impression. 



1200. Egg Plant Fried Plain 

Slice the egg-plant without paring iuto quarter- 
inch thicknesses, throwing away only the end par- 
ings. Boil the slices a few minutes in salted water 
to extract Ihe strong taste, dr.iin them and while 
still moist dust with pepper, dip both sides in flour 
and fry (saute) them in frying pans on the top of 
the range in a little clear drippings and send them 
in fresh done and brown. 



1201. Curried Tripe— Italian. 

1 pound of tripe — already cooked. 

1 cupful of gravy. 

1 small onion. 

1 teaspoonful of curry powder. 

5 hard-boiled eggs. 

10 slices of bread. 

Black pepper and cayenne. 
Cut the onion across and across and shave it in 
little bits into a saucepan with a bastingspoonful of 
the clear tasteless fat from the top of the stock 
boiler and fry until it begins to brown. Sprinkle a 
rounded teaspoonful of curry powder over the 
onion, cut the tripe in shred's size of macaroni and 
two inches long and put it in und shake up over the 
fire until it is yellow-coaled with curry. Add a 
little black pepper and cayenne rnd hot meat gravy 
enough to make it like a th : ck stew. Cut ten thin 
slices of bread to the shape of a long leaf, dip one 
side in the fat in the meat pan and toast lightly on 
the top shelf of the range. When you dish up put 
one of these pieces on the edge partly projecting 
outwards, the spoonful of tripe heaped in the dish 
and two- quarters of boiled egg cut lengthwise, at 
the other end. 



1202. Apple Fritters with Sauce. 

There is the widest difference in quality between 
apple fritters made in the usual rough and ready 
way and some others of the best possible sort, s ill 
while thirty or forty persons out of every fifty are 
found to take these with apparent satisfaction we 
will not be the first to complain, but will only sug- 
gest that they cook through in half the time with- 
out burning the bat'er almost black if care is taken 
to ascertain that the apples are of an easy cooking 
kind; for there are kinds that will never be done 
through. Take. 

8 or 10 apples. 

2 cupfuls of flour — £ pound. 

1 cupful of milk or water. 

2 eggs. Pinch of salt. 

1 tablespoonful melted lard. 

Same of syrup. 

1 teaspoonful baking powder. 
It is well worth while to always mix the batter 
by measure as it wastes time and is unsatisfactory 
to have to doctor it over again. 

Wash the apples and dry them, cut in slices with- 
out paringand (brow away only the end pieces. If 
good apples the slices should not bo very thin. 

Put the flour and all the rest into a pan and stir 
rapidly together and beat the baiter thus made un- 
til it is smooth. Drop in the apple slices, take 
them up coated with batter and drop from a spoon 
into a saucepan of hot lard. Fry sbout 8 minutes. 
Break off the rough fragments as you dish them 
and pour over a large spoonful of pudding sauce or 
No. 477. 

They are more elegant with the apples pared and 
cored and then sliced into thick rings. 



Study of Notable Menus. 

Says a newspaper: "Very simple was the menu 
of the dinner at Dantzic, when the emperors of 
Germany and Russia met. It wns this: 
Potage tortue, a l'Anglaise. 
Turbot et saumon garnis. 
Filet de boeuf, braise. 
Legumes. 
Filets depoulets, aux truffes. 
Chaudfroid de cailles. 
Salade. 
Glaces. Compote, 

Dessert. 
A glass or two of champagne, and the meal was 
over. To tlie dread of bombs their imperial high- 
nesses do not mean to add the horrors of dyspepsia," 



TBANSLATION. 

The simplicity is rather apparent than real, the 
fewest possible words being used to indicate the 
dishes served which are: English turtle soup, two 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



313 



kinda of fish, turbot and salmon, both garnished 
or decorated perhaps very elaborately, and of 
course differently cooked, a braised tenderloin of 
beef with some sort of accompaniment not men- 
lioned. Vegetables are bunched together in one 
word, "legumes." Fillets of fowls with truffles, in 
some shape, "but whether as truffle sauce or other- 
wise not indicated. The favorite "chaudfroid" of 
quails occurs here again. Salade has but one word, 
Ices, which may have been various, the same. 
Compote may have been a work of art in the shape 
of a combination of fruits in syrup with cream in a 
border mould or with cake. Dessert, is but the 
title head for an unknown quantity contributed by 
'terers, confectioners, cheesemakers and others. 



Fifth Day. 



Cream of fowl soup. 



Ribs of beef with Yorkshire pudding. 

Larded sweetbreads with green peas. 

Celery and cheese — Italian. 

Peach fritters. 



1203. Cream of Fowl Soup. 



This following is the generally received Potage a 
la Reine, but it should be known that there are 
several variations. A case has been known of a 
fashionable city restaurateur who sent for a noted 
cook from a leading eastern hotel that he might 
have the advantage of the best skill obtainable in 
his business, only to find that they differed on such 
points as whether potage a la Reine should be made 
with almonds or not, to a degree of positiveness that 
soon put an end to the engagement. There have 
been almond cream soups always, Spanish, Italian, 
and French, sweet, gras and maigre — native to 
countries where almonds were plenty, the latter 
mixed with oatmeal instead of chicken, but the 
Queen soup or potage a la Reine in present use seems 
to have originated with Udc, since he gave out what 
he termed his improved receipt for making it, set- 
ting aside his first way, and does not use almonds. 
Still there were others who thought they improved 
it, and Bi c hop, a Windsor Castle cook, gives us an 
especial "potage a la Queen Victoria" that does con- 
tain the paste of pounded almonds, as well as that 
of chicken and hard boiled yolks of eggs. An- 
other calls that "puree of fowl a la Celestine," after 
a stage celebrity of that time, while he adopts Ude's 
potage a la Reine and calls it "puree of fowl, a la 
Reine." These points are of interest to Btewards 
and cooks, and may remind them of how two 
knights, in the fable, fought over the question of 
what (he shield was made of that they found set 
up by the highway and one of them had seen only 



the side that was made of gold and the other the 

opposite side that was made of silver. 
To make the soup take 

3 gallons of chicken or veal broth, 

Meat of 4 fowls, or 3 quarts when cut up, 

1 quart boiled rice, 

1 small onion, 

2 heads of celery, 
2 blades of mace, 

1 quart of cream — or milk and some butter, 

Salt and cayenne. 
It is frequently the case that there is an abund- 
ance of chicken broth on hand when fowls have 
been boiled for dinner the previous day. Set it on 
to boil with the bones of the fowls and if necessary a 
veal shank to make it richer, the onion, celery and 
mace and no other vegetables or seasonings. Mince 
the chicken meat fine, then pound it and the rice 
together in a mortar, thin it down with hot broth 
and force it through a seive. Boil the cream separ- 
ately. At time to dish up stiain the ohicken broth 
into the puree, stirring all the while. Season with 
salt and cajeune and add the boiling cream. The 
soup should not be allowed to boil after the differ- 
ent parts are mixed together. Any kind of rich soup 
or stew liquor will curdle cream or milk if they are 
boiled together. This and similar cream soups will 
generally curdle slightly while keeping hot in the 
tureen, but not to a degree that makes much differ- 
ence provided it is not allowed to boil and then 
settle, 



1204. 



Ribs of Beef with Yorkshire 
Pudding. 



It would be a very popular dish if better under- 
stood. According to the original usage it should 
be beef roasted on a spit with the pudding in a tin 
reflecting oven underneath catching the gravy and 
baking at the same time, and the next way to that 
is to set the meat on a trivet or frame standing in 
the dish of pudding and both baked together, the 
pudding being of course saturated with the gravy 
and drippings. But this requires the steady and 
moderate heat of a brick oven. Either way, it must 
be seen, adish is made that is very different from 
what some restaurants offer with the same name, 
which is a square of tough pudding as dry as a 
piece of bread, made long before the meal, and 
thrust into the side of a dish of meat as if for a 
superfluous sort of ornament only. 

It can be served almost in the original style with 
almost its original softness and richness by cooking 
the rib ends of beef carefully as directed at No 
1022, and the Yorkshire pudding at No. 408, and 
put the latter in to bake only fifteen minutes before 
time to serve, and only half an inch deep in the 
pan. Then serve a square or oblong cut in the dish 
that cut of beef rib without bone, and the wiseb 



344 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



gravy obtainable from the roast beef poured ovfr 
them. Yorkshire pudding made from the receipt 
above referred lo is rich enough for anything, eveu 
for pudding with sweet sauce. 



1205. Larded Sweetbreads with Peas. 

For 24 dishes take 

12 selected calves' sweetbreads. 

1 pound of salt pork or bacon. 

2 quarts of chicken or veal broth. 
2 ounces of butter. 
Seasonings; mashed potatoes. 

2 cans of French peas. 

Take sweetbreads large enough to be split in two. 
Wash them and steep in cold water. Boil about 
15 minutes in soup stock with a dash of vinegar in 
it — which helps to keep them white — then take 
them out and press them between two pans until 
cold. At the same time set, the chicken stock on the 
fire to boil down to half the quantity. 

Cut the pork into thin strips. Split the sweet- 
breads and lard them with it in regular order, 
drawing the strips through. Trim the edges to an 
even shape. 

Butter the bottom of a shallow saucepan and lay 
in the sweetbreads with the remaining trimmings 
of salt pork and piece of onion, turnips and celery, 
bruised pepper corns, and enough of the reduced 
broth to fill the spaces without floating the sweet- 
breads. Let simmer with the lid on about half an 
hour. 

Then take them up into another vessel; add the 
remaining broth to the gravy, strain it into another 
saucepan and not thicken it but skim and then boil 
it down to clear glaze and pour it over the sweet- 
breads just before dishing them up. 

Part of these preparations can be gone through 
the previous evening when the dish is for 
dinner. 

When to be served spread mashed potatoes thinly 
in a large dish and cut out flat*, place one in each 
dish with an egg-slice or knife, setting it with a 
diagonal slant across the dish, a sweetbread on top, 
and green peas in a similar slanting line at each end 
of the dish. 



1206. Baked Celery and Cheese— Italian. 

A two-quart panful of celery cut small. 

2 cupfuls of grated cheese. 

J cupful of butter or roast meat fat. 

2 cupfuls of brown sauce. 

Pepper and perhaps salt. 

1 cupful of cracker meal. 
Cut the celery in pieces an inch and a half long 
and split to about twice the size of macaroni and 
boil 15 minutes in salted water. Drain, put in a 
buttered small baking pan, sprinkle in the cheese, 
and pepper liberally; pour over good well-flavored 



brown sauce, or the gravy without fat from the roast 
meat pan, sift cracker meal over the top and bake it 
'ong enough for the cheese to be melted in it and 
the flavors well mingled. This can be made a very 
excellent dish and one in great request with a good 
quality of cheese and gravy not too salt. Serve in 
flat dishes with or without a fried crust or toast. 
The baking is not essential, but when the oven is 
crowded it will be almost as good gently simmered 
on top. 

1207. Peach Fritters. 

Take ripe freestone peaches raw, peel and cut 
them in halves. Mix up a batter the same as for 
apple fritters at No. 1202, and use the peaches the 
same way. Serve with wine or any other pudding 
sauce. 



Study of Notable Menus. 

Banquet at the Grand Pacific Hotel, Chicago, 
John B. Drake, proprietor, September 1883. Given 
by the citizens in honor of a visiting Lord Chief 
Justice. Covers laid for 400. 

"The entire apartment was decorated in as pro- 
fusely rich a manner. It seemed as if the gardens 
of the West bad been despoiled to furnish floral 
trophies for the occasion. The chandeliers were 
draped with sruilax, the entrance was gorgeously 
festooned. The brilliance of electric lights flooded 
the apartment, and the strains of music, now gay 
and now patriotic, crept through the perfume-laden 
air and added melody to splendor." 
MENU. 

Blue Points. 



Green Turtle Soup. 



Boiled Kennebec Salmon. 
Sliced Tomatoes. 

Fillet of Beef, with Mushrooms. 
Lima Beans. 

Young Turkey, with Jelly. 
Baked Stuffed Tomatoes. Sweet Potatoes. 



Sweetbreads Larded. Green Peas. 

Peach Fritters, Claret Sauce. 

Pate of Chicken. 



Champagne Sherbet. 

Roast Prairie Chicken. Broiled Snipe. 

Dressed Celery. Chicken Salad. 

Brandy Jelly. Biscuit Glace. 

Cake. Tutti Frutti. 

Fruit. Coffee. Roquefort. 



The Steward of the Grand Pacific Hotel is James 
F. Atkinson; Chief Cook, Constance Wolff; Pastry 
Cook and Confectioner, Pierre Caluori. 



THE AMEEICAN COOK. 



345 



COMMENTS' 

The Chicago Times said: "The dinner was elegant- 
ly served in courses; it was an English dinner given 
to in Englishman. The bill of fare was the acme of 
good taste; ii was printed in good Anglo-Saxon so 
that everybody could read it without hiring an in- 
terpreter." 



Sixth Day. 

Coney Island clam chowder. 



Fricandeau of minced veal. 

Pork tenderloin with cabbaye. 

Celery in cream. 

Poached eyys — Andalusian. 

Farina cake with jelly. 



1208. 



Clam Chowder 
Style. 



Coney Island 



The clam chowder so popular in the restaurants 
a-< a lunch dish is more'jf a stew than a soup, being 
thick with clams and potatoes; a large plate of it 
makes a hearty meal for a person. It is conse- 
quently unsuitable to serve as soup at hotel dinners 
unless modified by the addition of more liquid. The 
following makes an available soup without materi- 
ally changing its character: 

2 quarts of clams and their liquor — or three 
large cans. 

(5 quarts of soup stock. 

2 quarts of raw potatoes cut in pieces. 

Butter size of an egg. 

2 cupfuls of sliced onions. 

2 large slices of raw ham. 

1 quart of tomatoes chopped small. 

2 teaspoonfuls mixed thyme and savory. 
12 cloves, 1 bayleaf, parsley. 

1 Inblespoonful each of black pepper and salt. 

The different articles should be made ready sep- 
arately and placed conveniently for use. Have the 
c'ams scalded and then cut in pieces and the liquor 
saved. Cut the potatoes in large squares and slice 
the onions. 

An hour before dinner put the butter and ham ia 
a saucepnn together and the onions on top and set 
over the fire. Stick the cloves in a small onion ad- 
ditional and tie that up with the bayleaf and pars- 
ley and throw in and also the powdered or minced 
herbs, and put. on the lid and let stew slowly. 

In about 15 or 20 minutes, or before the contents 
begin to brown, put into the same saucepan the soup 
stock, clam liquor, tomatoes, potatoes, pepper and 
salt, and let cook until the potatoes are done. Then 
take out the soup bunch and ham, put in the dims 
and let boil up once before it goes into the tureen. 



It is expected that the potatoes will sufficiently 
thicken this chowder, but they should not be al- 
lowed to boil so much as to disappear altogether. 



1209. Fricandeau of Minced Veal. 

A. fricandeau is defined as meaning something 
plea-ant to the taste, also as stewed veal, also, a 
person fond of dainties. The dish following has 
become known to some extent under the name. The 
more elaborate larded, stuffed and braised fricandeau 
will be found further on. Take. 

1 pound or quart of raw veal, minced. 

1 pound or three pints of cooked veal same. 

1 small onion. 

2 bay leaves, savoty. 
1 cupful minced ham. 
4 thin slices of bacon. 

1 teaspoonful each of salt and pepper. 
Let one-fourth of the meat of both kinds be fat. 
Shave all dark outside from the cooked meat before 
mincing it. Fry the onion cut up small in a spoon- 
ful of drippings and when it begins to brown mix it 
with the meat and all the other ingredieuts except 
bay leaves and bacon. Press the meat — which is 
'ike sausage — into a 3-quart pan of a deep and nar- 
row shape, smooth over, lay the bay leaves and ba- 
c«n slices on top and bake in a slow oven about an 
hour. Turn it out, cut carefully in slices like roast 
meat, and serve with a brown meat gravy poured 
under. 



1210. Pork Tenderloin with Cabbage. 



Select 4 large tenderloins — they weigh nearly a 
pound each — boil them in stock well salted for about 
an hour; take up and let them cool. At the same 
time cut a head of summer cabbage in quarters, take 
out the hard stem and boil the cabbage about 45 
minutes or until tender. Drain it then, season and 
chop it. 

Cut the tenderloins into round slices (scollops). 
When you have tnken up one kind of your roast din- 
ner meat let the pan dry down on top of the range 
until it begins to fry and the gravy sticks to the 
bottom and then put in the sliced tenderloin and let 
the pieces get a bright glaze and slight touch of 
brown on both sides. 

Dish up cabbage in the dish with two or three 
slices of tenderloin pressed down edgewise, as in a 
border, and a spoonful of light-colored brown 
sauce. 



1211. Celery in Cream. 

Cut celery in lengths a little shorter than aspar- 
agus, split the broad stalks to make them all of one 
size, tie in bunches, boil in salted water about half 
an hour, then drain and lay in a bright baking pan, 
removing the twine at the same time. Make a cup- 
ful of cream sauce (No. 931) and pour it over the 
celery and keep hot on the top shelf in the oven 
where it will get a yellow bake on top without cook- 



340 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



ing and drying. Serve on flat dishes, the celery 
placed as it lay on the pan. 



1212. Poached Eggs— Andalusian. 

One form of ccufs a la religieuse or religious peo- 
ple's eggs for Friday dinners. 

Stew down some strained tomatoes with finely 
minced onion in it to a thick puree,and brown sauce 
likewise in equal quantity and mix them together 
and add pepper sauce to make it pungent. Have 
ready some beets in vinegar and capers. 

Poach eggs as they are called for, in good shape 
as shown at No. 1139; put a spoonful of the thick 
sauce or puree in a flat dish and a poached egg in 
the middle and ornament with shapes stamped out 
of pickled beets, and capers. 

1213. Farina Cake with Jelly. 

3 pints of milk or water. 

10 ounces of farina — 2 cups small. 

1 cup of sugar. 

Butter size of an egg. 

3 eggs. 

Pinch of salt. 
Boil the milk (or water) with half the sugar in 
it, sprinkle in the farina like making mush. Let it 
cook slowly at the back of the range half an hour 
or more, Mix in the butter and eggs. Pour it 
into a pan that will not soil the boitom — a bright tin 
pan will do — about an inch deep. Bake 10 min- 
utes, then take it out of the oven and dredge the 
remaining sugar over the top. Bake it again and 
the sugar will melt into a crisp glaze. Dish up 
squares or oblongs with a teaspoonful of bright jelly 
in the dish. 



with flowers of various kinds. The mantels were 
ilso profusely filled with rare flowers and plants, 
while the tables themselves were so covered with 
roses, carnations, camellias and other flowers that it 
seemed doubtful at first how the courses could be 
served. Two large baskets of flowers were set at 
the end of each table, and at the corner of each 
were strewn, in apparently loose piles, a lot of 
flowers. It looked as if a careless elbow might dis- 
arrange and upset these fragrant heaps, but a closer 
inspection showed that their stems were neatly tied 
together. Tais is said to be the latest Boston wrin- 
kle in the arrangement of flowers. In the centre 
of the top and bottom tables were immense oblong 
baskets of flowers, from which delicate trails of 
smilax, with here and there a bright colored flower, 
ran gracefully in and out among the silver dishes. 
The guests enjoyed the following 
MENU. 
Fillet of sole, tartar sauoe. 



Study of Notable Menus. 

The following was printed in the Daily National 
JTolel Reporter at the time. It is valuable as an ex 
ample of the most advanced methods of setting out 
a banquet: 

On December 3d the publishers of the Atlantic 
Monthly gave a breakfast at the Hotel Brunswick, 
13oston, in h nor of the seventieth birthday of Oli- 
ver Wendell Holmes, the famous author and poet. 
The banquet hall of the Brunswick was a flower 
garden. Six long tables occupied the centre of the 
loir. Four of these werearranged lengthwise with 
the room, while the other two were placed at right 
angles to them, one at each end of the room. The 
space between the tables and the windows looking 
out upon the street was filled with palm trees of 
huge size, placed in tubs of earth, which were in 
turn placed upon blocks or pedesta's. The decora- 
lions, exclusively floral, were very elaboi ate. The 
four large mirrors on the side walls of the hall were 
tastefully hung with festoons of smilax intermingled 



Stuffed Saddle-Rock oysters, roasted. 



Omelette, with chicken livers. 
Cutlets of chicken, French peas. 

Fillet of beef larded, with mushrooms. 
Potato croquettes, tomatoes. 



Broiled woodcock, on toast. 

Roast quail, stuffed with truffles. 

Dressed celery. 



Creams and ices, Cakes. 
Coffee. 



Fruits. 



COMMENTS. 

The sole, we believe, is not found in American 
waters, although other flat fishes of a similar sort, 
such as plaice and flounders, are; and it is frequent- 
ly written in a menu as English sole; the circum- 
stance of their having to be imported enhancing the 
flavor of the viands for an exceptional occasion. 
They are filleted, whenever.after skinning, the bone 
is taken out and then may be cooked either by bread- 
ing and frying, rolled up in coils — as would very 
likely be the way where a large number were to be 
served — or by broiling. Tartar sauce is, or used to 
be, only another name for mayonaiee, with certain 
seasonings added as stated at No. 903; but in this 
country a hot tartar sauce has c 'me into use which 
is but slightly different from Hollaudaise— being a 
rich yellow, like softened butter, the method of 
making it is at No. 904. Stuffed oysters (Nos. 812 
and 813) for a large party might be finished as a pan 
roast (No.841) after stuffing. Omelette wi h chicken 
livers as at No. 1150. Chicken cutlets are some- 
times flattened croquettes with a bone inserted to 
make the ^imitation of the shape of a lamb chop 
breaded, but it is more than likely these were a 
different, and better article, the cuts of chicken wih 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



317 



Iho trimmed joints, either broiled or fried as at No. 
1217. Concerning the fillet of beef an American 
writer on dinner-giving remarks: "One sees a fillet 
of beef at almost every dinner party. 'That same 
fillet with mushrooms,' a frequent diner-out will 
say. I hope to see it continued, for among the sub- 
stantial there is nothing more satisfactory." Po- 
tato coquettes as at No. 951 would be the elegant 
style for this course. The tomatoes were most likely 
p'ainstewed, but stewed down rich. Broiled wood- 
cock on toast the same as quail on toast, (No. 1133.) 
Perhaps the highest effort at luxury among the 
dishes served was that which required an acquaint- 
ance with the literature of gastronomy, suoh as the lit- 
erary c mpany present on this occasion might be ex- 
pected to possess for a full appreciation of its merits, 
the dish of quail stuffed with truffles. Says P»rillat 
Savarin: Of all kinds of game,properly so-called, the 
quail is perhaps the chief favorite, giving pleasure 
not only by taste but by its form and color. Only 
ignorance can excuse those who serve it up other- 
wise than roasted or en papilottes (in paper; broiled, 
twisted up in a sheet of writing paper cut to fit, or 
boned, and roasted in a paper case), because its flav- 
or is so easily lost, that if the animal is plunged in 
any liquid it evaporates and disappears. The wood- 
cock is also a bird well deserving notice, but few 
know its good points. It should be roasted under 
the eye of asportsman, especially the sportsman who 
killed it." It is the stuffiug of truffles that makes 
this a dish out of the ordinary way, for it does not 
matter that the truffle in itself is not a thing that 
the generality of people would go wild over, least ot 
all the truffle that bas been canned, kept and trans- 
po ted acioss the ocean, it is its association in innu- 
merable anecdotes of great and famous people, their 
feasts and presents, their dissipation of fortunes in 
the purchase of a luxury of which the superlative 
attraction lay in the exorbitant price it commanded, 
putting it out of the reach at some periods of any 
but the wealthiest individuals. Says the author 
above quoted: "Whoever says ' truffle," utters a 
word associated with many enjoyments. The origin 
of the truffle is unknown; it is found, but how it is 
produced, or its mode of growth, nobody knows 
Men of the greatest skill have studied the question; 
and some felt certain they had discovered the seeds 
and thus could multiply the truffle at will. Vain 
efforts and deceitful promi -es! Their planting pro- 
duced no crop; and it is, perhaps, no gretit misfor- 
tune, for since truffles are often sold at fancy prices, 
'hey would probably be less thought of if people 
could get plenty of them and at a cheap rate. The 
glory of the truffle may now (in 1825) be said to 
have reached is culmination. lv ho can dare men- 
tion beiug at a dinner uuless it had its piece truffee •> 
However good an entree may be, it requires truffles 
'o set it off to advantage. In a word, the truffle is 
tu j very gem of gastronomic materials." The same 



author in another -dace outlining bis conceptions of 
what might be regarded as third-class, second-class 
and first-class dishes, names in the ascending order, 
respectively, turkey stuffed with chestnuts; turkey 
■ 'done" (stuffed) with truffles, and truffled quails 
with marrow. 

A hotel keeper correspondent of the National Hoiel 
Reporter a few years ago gave his experience in this 
wise: He said he had read and been interested in 
the stories about the truffle and (he fondness of 
many noted people for it; had read how the once 
famous Haytien emperor Soulouque had beggared 
himself in their purchase: had read of the rich 
aroma of the truffle that had plunged royal gour- 
mands in ecstasies, particularly by the method of 
filling a quail with one large truffle, closing it and 
roasting, and serving with no other accompaniment 
but that which not only permeated the bird, but 
filled the apartment with perfume, and he purchased 
some in cans— enough of them for a Christmas feast 
for many people — and he was disappointed. 

The truffle as he found it was not that kind of a 
tuber at all, but tame, flat, almost tasteless. Per- 
haps another remark of BrillatSavarin's may help to 
explain the grounds of the difference between ro- 
mance and reality in this case, without even con- 
sidering the effect of the canning process, he says : 
"The best truffles in France come frjrn Perigord 
aud High Provence, and it is about Janu iry they 
are in full flavor. Those of Burgundy and Dau- 
phine are inferior, being hird and wanting in fla- 
vor. Thus, there are truffles and truffles as there 
are 'faggots and faggots.' " 

The point we wish to make for those who get up 
banquets is, that a truffled dish, particularly a dish 
of quail stuffed with truffles, may be a far more in- 
teresting affair to persons who, like the hotel-keeper 
correspondent, have read and had their imagina- 
tions sti'red by truffle stories than to those who may 
have never heard of the existence of such an edible, 
and therein lies the use or uselessness of truffles at 
an American feast. In regard to the breakfast in 
question at the Hotel Brunswick, it has to be re- 
marked that fresh truffles, and very good ones, are 
imported in jars, without difficulty, at the time of 
the principal truffle harvest, which is in December. 



1214. Braising— What it Means. 

Braising is that way of cooking meat in a covered 
skillet or "spider" — or whatever the local name for 
the covered pot may be — by which the old Virginia 
and Maryland colored cooks, "to the manor born," 
jnake their favorite dishes so surprisingly appetiz- 
ing both by the odor while the cookiug is in pro- 
gress and by the juicy tenderness of the fowl, pig, 
lurkcy or coon, or whatever else it may be when 
done. It is the way of cooking in front of an open 
wood fire over coals drawn out upon the hearth with 



348 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



live couls by the shovelful pied upon the rimmed 
lid of the oven or skillet, while the odorous steam 
shoots out in jets from beneath, all around. If it 
were thoroughly and popularly understood that that 
is the meaning of "bra : sed" meats in the hotel bill 
of f ire, it is obvious such dishes would possess an 
interest for a great many people that they do not 
now, and, besides, there would be a sort of standard 
of compa'ison to try the success of the hotel in imi- 
tating home cooking. The trouble evidently is that 
the word "braise" conveys no meaning whatever 
connected with edibles to American ears, and still 
there is no other, and this happens to be a proper 
term for the process. The native cooks call it 
'smothering," if they give it a name at all, but 
they also call it smothering to bake a panful of 
meat in gravy in the oven. In fact there is no 
name for braise but "cook-it-in-the-skillet," and 
that designation is a little unhandy for the purposes 
of a bi'l of fare. Brazicris the English, and braisiere 
the French proper name for the camp oven or 
skillet above mentioned, a vessel made to hold burn- 
ing charcal upnn the lid whi'e set upon a bed of 
live coals. Braised meats are those cooked in a 
braisiere. The French braise, with an accent over 
the last letter, is the same as our braised. For- 
merly it was always spelled with a z, and is still 
so met with sometimes and occasions disputes- 
The reason for the confusion of methods may be 
fund in attempted spelling reforms and cerlain 
lexicographical transmogrifications. 

The good of the braising process is that it cooks the 
article in super -heated steam and softens the fibres 
in a way that baking and roasting cannot effect, and 
when, at length, the water is all expelled in steam 
imparts a surface brown without drying the meat. 
The hotel cook can either carry out the process in 
proper form or imitate it with a covered vessel set 
iu the oven. 



Seventh Day. 

Chicken broth. 



Braised fillet of beef. 

Chicken cutlets with vegetables. 

Spaghetti and tomatoes — Palermetane. 

Terrapin in cases, Maryland style. 

Rice croquettes, sabayon sauce. 



1215. Chicken Broth. 

2 gallons of chicken stock. 
4 cupfuls of vegefables cut small. 
2 cupfuls of chicken meat in dice. 
£ cupful minced parsley. 
Salt and white pepper. 
Strain off the liquor in which chickens have been 
builed, or chickens and and turkeyB together, into 



the soup pot. It will be better flavored if there has 
been a small piece of salt port boiled with them, not 
enough for decided taste but only a seasoning 
Skim off all the fat; cut several sorts of vegetables, 
in very small dice and set them to boiling in the 
broth an hour before the meal. Cut she chicken in 
pieces twice as large andadd it later, and the pars- 
ley last. The broth is intended to be thin and 
simple, but a bastingspoon of mixed starch thicken- 
ing may be added to give a little substance. Avoid 
chopping soup vegetables if possible. Chicken meat, 
at any rate, should always be carefully cut to an 
even size. White pepper is commom black pepper 
that has had the outside hull rasped off before 
grinding. 

1216. Braised Fillet of Beef. 

Cut a pound of fat bacon or firm salt pork into 
long strips about the Bize of a common pencil and 
lard a fillet of beef with them.drawing them through 
the meat from one side to the other with a large 
lance larding needle, and in suoh a slanting direc- 
tion that the slices of fillet when cut will show the 
spots of fat all through. Clip off the projeotiDg ends 
to a uniform length. Put the soraps of bacon into 
a deep saucepan, the fillet on them, an onion stuck 
with cloves, a piece of turnip, celery, carrot, a bay 
leaf, and parsley, and a pint of soup stock. Cover 
with a sheet of oiled paper and the lid and simmer 
at the side of the range about two hours, adding 
more stock as it is needed but not enough for the 
meat to float in it. Then take the fillet up on a 
baking pan and brown it in the oven. Strain the 
liquur it was braised in, skim off the fat, then boil 
it down to half-glaze and pour it over the shoes of 
fillet as they are dished up. 

Beef thus permeated with the flavor of bacon and 
vegetables is no longer like plain beef but is suitable 
to be served in the middle of a dish of cabbage or 
macaroni, or with dumplings or potatoes in the same 
dish. 



The obiection against the use of the fillet or ten- 
derloin of beef for hotel dinners is that it is a scarce 
cut and is needed in every hotel much more for 
cutting into steaks for breakfast than for a dinner 
entree. There may be no suoh an objection with a 
few city hotels that have well-supplied markets at 
hand, but there are other places, particularly plea- 
sure resorts, in large numbers, where it is impossi- 
ble to purchase a fillet even for a parly dinner with- 
out buying a whole quarter of beef with it. In such 
an exigency it may answer every purpose to take a 
rib roast of beef and cut out the choice portion the 
whole length, like a tenderloin in shnpe, lard it and 
braise it tender. The appearance is the same as the 
real fillet. The remainder of the rib roast can be 
used in other ways so that there will not be much 
loss. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



319 



1217. Chicken Outlets with Vegetables. 

These are the four principal cuts oft* chicken — 
the two legs with all the meat that can be taken off 
with them, and the two first wing joints withaside 
of i he breast to each. Take them off raw. Chop 
off the knob ends of the bones, then scrape them up 
like 8 lamb cutlet. Simmer the cuts in broth for 
about ten minutes, then place them in press between 
two pans with a weight on top. 

When cold remove the skin and trim them to 
look like a lamb chop. They will not retain any 
shape unless partially cooked as stated, and then 
made cold. Season them, dip in egg aud cracker 
meal and fry in the wire-basket in a pan of hot lard. 
Only young and tender chickens can be used in this 
way. 

To border the dishes cut different sorts of vege- 
tables in shreds as if for Julien soup, cook them in 
water and then drain them dry and mix in some 
cream sauce. Place the cutlet in the middle. 



1218 



Spaghetti and Tomatoes— Paler- 
metane. 



The name of the style has reference to the city of 
Palermo in Italy. 

Spaghetti is macaroni in another form; a solid 
cord instead of a tube. 

This is a favorite way with the Italians. The dish 
need not be baked. They simply boil the macaroni 
and then make it rich, not to say greasy, with the 
other articles and gravy from the meat dishes. 
1 pound of spaghelti. 

1 cupful of minced cheese. 

2 cupfuls of thick stewed tomatoes. 
2 cupfulsof brown meat gravy. 

Break the spaghetti into three-inch lengths, throw 
it into boiliog water and let cook twenty minutes. 
Drain it, put it into a baking pan, mix in the cheese, 
tomatoes, gravy, and if necessary a lump of butter. 
Mix up and let simmer together about balf an hour, 
either in a slack oven or on the stove hearth. It 
will be all eaten if not made too strong flavored 
with tomatoes or too salt — the common mistakes. 
The gravy and stewed-down tomatoes being already 
seasoned no more salt should be added to the dish. 



1219 



Terrapin in Cases, Maryland 
Style. 



For 50 cases, 8 to 12 terrapins will be required, 
depending on the size. They reach to 7 or 8 pounds 
each in weight, ocassionally, but yield only a fourth 
of the live weight of clear meat free from bone, for 
serving incases. Having prepared the terrapin and 
stock as directed at No. 803 cut the meat into pieces 
size of cranberries. Keep the black fat and eggs 
separate on another dish. Boil down the liquor the 



terrapin was stewed in, thicken it, strain and re- 
duce as detailed at No. 805 and add half a pint of 
Madeira. 

Take large paper cases, brush them inside very 
slightly with clear melted butter. Mince the crumb 
of a stale loaf very fine, partially moisten with 
spoonfuls of m lted butter poured over and stirred 
about; then line the bottom of I he cases with the 
crumbs and bake them about three minutes Take 
them out, neatly fill the cases with terrapin meat, 
place the terrapin eggs and bits of fat around the 
edge and pour in I he thick reduced sauce. Fifteen 
minutes before time to serve set the cases in the 
oven on a baking sheet, and send to table hot. 
There should belittle cakes of fried hominy served 
on separate dishes to complete the style. 



1220. Rice Croquettes, Sabayon Sauce. 

1 cupful of raw rice — £ pound. 

3 cupfuls of water and milk. 

Butier size of an egg. 

Sugar same amount — 2 ounces. 

3 yolks of eggs 

Little salt, and flavoring of nutmeg. 
Wash the rice and boil it with two cups of water 
with the steam shut in. Add a cup of milk when it 
is half cooked and let it simmer soft and dry at the 
back of the range. Mash it a little with the spoon; 
mix in the other ingredients. When cool makeup 
in long rolls with flour on the hands. Fry in the 
wire basket in a deep saucepan of hot lard till light 
brown. Serve with a spoonful of sabayon sauce 
thick and smooth, No. 493, or 495, which is simpler 
and good enough with rum added. 



One quart of cooked rice is equal to the quantity 
named in the above receipt, but it must be dry and 
not enriched with butter. The common annoyance 
in making croquettes is their tendency to melt and 
fall to pieces in the fat, or at least come out soft and 
greasy. It is owing to too much moisture in the 
mixture; but even the least experienced assistant 
need not fail if the ingredients are measured. 



Study of Notable Menus. 

Dinner at the Leland Hotel, Warren F. Leland, 
proprietor, Chicago, September, 1883. Given by 
an eminent lawyer to a visiting Lord Chief Justice. 

"The ladies' ordinary of the hotel had been trans- 
formed for the occasion into a bower of beauty. 
Covers were laid for seventy-five persons. The 
tables were arranged in horse-shoe form. The 
Southern window of the apartment had a curtain 
literally composed of smi'ax, and on the surface was 
the motto of the house of Coleridge worked in im- 
mortelles on a white carnation background, "Qunlis 
Vita Finis Ita" — as the life is so the end. A wreath 



350 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



composed of white rosebuds was' suspended from 
the curtain by a while satin ribbon, and on the 
window drapery overhead was the motto, ''Duke est 
Desipere in Loco" — Sweet it is to play the fool at 
the right time. Around the entire room streamers 
in gold letters on a blue background were neatly 
arranged, bearing the names prominent in English 
and American jurisprudence. 

The menu cards and accompanying invitations 
were of the most elaborate kind and elegant speci- 
mens of typographical art." 
MENU. 
Huitres sur Coquille. 
Puree de Volaille a la Reine. 



Boudins a la Richelieu. 
Caviar. Foies Gras. 



Filets de Pompano, Normande. 
Concombres, PommesDuchesse. 



Roast Beef a l'Anglai e, Yorkshire pudding. 
Selle de Chevreuill. 



Terrapin en caisse a la Maryland. 

Supreme de ris de Veau aux Truffes. 

Beccasines a la Joinville. 



Sorbet a la Marquise. 

Canvasback Duck au cresson. 

Celery. 

Glaces. Gateaux. 

Cafe. 



The steward of the Leland Hotel is Daniel Lace; 
Chief Cook, Xavier Grosjean; Pastry Cook and Con- 
fectioner, Henri Born. 



like soft butter, sharp with lemon juice, made like 
Hollandaise with parsley added — cucumbers — 
duchess potatoes (No. 957). 

Removes — Beef and Yorkshire pudding (No.1204) 
— saddle of cltevreuil, which is rotbuck in paxticulnr 
and stands for venison in general. 

Entrees — Terrapin in cases (No. 1219) — supremo 
of veal sweetbreads with truffles, same as N' 1 . 1226 
in the main, subject to the cook's own style of dish- 
ing — s ipe with truffle sauce. 

Vegetables. 

Punch — a la Marquise — receipt furnished by Mr. 
Grosjean: 2 qts ripe peaches chopped: li lbs sugar; 
3 qts water; 1 qt maraschino; 1 pt kirsch. 

Roti — canvas-back duck with cress (No. 1072) — 
the South Kensington authority states the case 
about cress with roast fowls or game birds this way: 
"The fashion of serving bread sauce with roasted 
turkey or gime is unknown on the coninent, and 
the French are especially intolerant of our 'panade, 
as Ihey term bread sauce. En revanche, the E g- 
lish will not accept water-cress as the best accom- 
paniment to roast chicken, quails, or partridges. 
Never. heless it is a delicious and appropriate accom- 
paniment, and one we shall do well to adopt, at least 
by way of a change." 

Salad — celery. 

Cakes, ices, coffee, brandy. 



TRANSLATION. 

Oysters — On shell. 

Soup — Puree or cream of fowl, or potage a la 
Reine, (No. 1203.) 

Side dishes orHORs d'oeuvre — Caviar — probably 
spread on shapes of toast (No. T21)— foies gras — fat 
livers, goose livers, roasted in a pan with season- 
ings, trimmed and sliced cold and ornamented in 
the dish with aspic jelly. Richelieu puddings; hot 
side dish to'serve in place of patties or bouchees at 
same time with the soup — boudin is the French word 
for pudding of the class known as black pudding, 
liver pudding and the like — the wiley Cardinal 
Richelieu seems to have been fond of fried onions 
since all the dishes and ragouts bearing that desig- 
nation taste of them — this is a little pat of forcemeat 
like No. 961, but made with pounded chicken in- 
stead offish, a spoonful of a mixture of light fried 
minced onions, mushrooms, and truffles inside, egged 
over the top; ornamented, and cooked by steaming 
a short time. 

Fisn — Pompano (No. 902) split and doubtless 
broiled, with Normandy sauce, a yellow hot sauce 



1221. Supremes— "What they Are. 

A supreme of fowl takes that name from the sauce 
supreme that is poured over the meat. The pieces 
naturaliy enough are built up in s me regular form 
wheu it is oue large dish served fur a party, but it 
is still supreme of fowl when it is but one fillet trim - 
med to a pear shape laid on the individual dish, 
masked over with the rich sauce and ornamented with 
whatever goes with it at that time — green peas, 
asparagus heads or black truffles. 

This is worthy of more than a passing notice be- 
cause the supreme de volaille is such a favorite, evi- 
dently, with great people of the Old World; among 
those who esteem stewed meats above tue roast, and 
who follow the German-French styles of Bernard 
and Dubois. The reader of this book will find the 
supreme ocourring frequently in the specimen menus 
in our book of salads. At a dinrer for the the two 
emperors in Potsdam it appears as "filets de. poulets 
aux points d'asperges, sauce supreme;" for the royal 
family of Italy it is "poulards aux points d' asperges;" 
for the imperial family of France it is "supreme de 
volaille aux points a" asperges;" at a dinner of Presi- 
dent Buchanan's at Washington it is "supreme de 
volaille aux truffes;" and it appears thus frequently 
in every collection of fine bills of fare. 

As above remarked, these dishes of chicken, or 

whatever else, take the name of supreme from the 

sauce of that name, and it is simply the richest 

\ white sauce that can be made. It is cream-colored, 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



331 



made by boiling down clear chicken broth to a jelly, 
boiling down mushrooms in broth lo an equal 
stre gth, adding white but ter-and flour thickening 
(roux), boiling, straining, and then some rich cream. 
The chicken must be first cooked, then made cold 
so that it can be trimmed to a symmetrical shape, 
then made hot shortly before it is wanted in sea- 
soned broth. The sauce is bright and glossy and 
just thick enough to remain on a piece of meat and 
coat it without being quite a paste, then the aspara- 
gus heads or cut truffles are placed upon or around 
it in the way to nroduce the most ornamental 
effect. 

Eighth Day. 

Cream of asparagus soup. 



Calf's head in omelet. 

Small chicken pies, French style. 

Macaroni and cheese — Bechamel. 

Supreme of sweetbreads, with truffles. 

Pineapple fritters, curacoa sauce. 

1222. Cream of Asparagns Soup. 

This soup can be made at any time of the year, 
with either canned asparagus or fresh, while the 
puree of asparagus can only be made properly when 
the fresh vegetable can be obtained and cooked 
green for the purpose. This is a nearly white 
cream soup with asparagus heads and Conde crusts 

6 quarts of soup ttock. 

3 quarts of asparagus, raw, cut in pieces, or 2 
cans. 

A small knuckle bone of ham. 

1 tablespoonful of sugar. 

A cupful of minced onion. 

1 blade of mace. 

3 quarts rich milk. 

J pound of butter — a cupful. 

J pound of flour — 2 cupfuls. 

White pepper and salt. 
Draw off the soup stock already lightly seasoned 
with vegetables; set on to boil with the knuckle 
bone or a slice of ham or dry salt pork, onion, mace 
and some white pepper. Cut off the asparagus peas, 
or green ends of the heads, and keep them separate* 
and boil the rest in the si ock about an hour. 

Meantime take the milk, butter and] flour 
and make cream sauce of them (No. 931). Then 
strain the soup into the regular soup pot, rub the 
asparagus pulp through a strainer into it, put in 
the cream sauce, salt and the asparagus heads, 
which, if canned, will be all ready, if not cook them 
■n the soup about 15 minutes. 

Have brown crusts ready the same as for bean 
soup and place a few in each plate. 



1223. Calf s Head in Omelet. 

Split the head carefully, dividing the joints with 
the cleaver but sawing through the rest to preserve 
the tongue and brains, which take out and, after 
washing, cook the brains and keep them ready. 

Steep the head in water, wash well, then cook in 
the stock boiler, allowing from one to two hours, ac- 
cording to size. When tender take it up into a pan 
of cold water and remove the bones. Having drain- 
ed it from the water dredge with salt and pepper, 
sprinkle with the juice of a lemon, and lay each 
half, skin downwards, in a frying pan slightly but- 
tered. 

For each half of the head make an omelet of 5 
eggs, mix in a fourth their bulk of soup stock, add 
salt and pepper, beat up and then add the brains, 
cut small and pour into the frying pan around the 
calf's head. 

Bake on the botton of the oven about fifteen min- 
utes, or until the omelet is set and light brown. 

Turn it upside down and out of the pan on to a 
dish and serve by cutting slices of the meat and 
omelet together Pour a little veal gravy on the 
meat. 



1224. Small Chicken Pies— French Style. 

The meat of four fowls. 

1 quart of brown butter sauce. 

1 quart of potato balls (Parisienne). 

2 tablespoonfuls of minced parsley. 
Seasonings. 

35 oval flats of puff paste. 

Cut four pounds of cooked chicken meat into 
slices an inch long and all of one thickness. Make 
a quart of sauce by lightly browning J cup of butter 
and rather more of flour together in the oven, and 
thickening a quart of chicken broth with it; strain 
it, add a grating of nutmeg, salt, pepper, parsley, 
the shred chicken, mix all, and keep hot. 

Cut thin flats of puff paste about three inches 
long; brush the tops with egg and water, bake a nice 
color and when done splitthem into top and bottom. 
Cook the potato balls as at No. 953. 

When time to serve pUcea bottom crust of pastry 
in the individual dish, and a good spoonful Of 
chicken in sauce upon it and the top crust on that 
and a spoonful of ootalo balls around. 



1225. Macaroni and Cheese.— Bechamel. 

1 pound of macaroni. 

1 cupful of minced cheese. 

J cupful of butter. 

5 cupfuls of water. 

1 bastingspoon of flour thickening. 

4 eggs. 

3 cupfuls of cream sauce. 



352 



THE AMERICAN OOOK. 



Salt. Parsley. 

This is yellow macaroni and cheese baked, with 
a white parsley sauce for a top layer. 

Boil the macaroni by itself first, throwing it into 
water that is already boiling and salted. Let it 
cook only 20 minutes. Then drain it dry and put it 
into a pun or baking dish holding three quarts. 

Chop the cheese, not very fine, and mix it with 
the macaroni, likewise the butter. Beat the eggs, 
water and spoonful of thickening together, pour 
them over the macaroni and set the pan in the oven 
to bake. 

While it is getting hot boil a pint of milk and 
thicken it like cream sauce and add chopped pars- 
ley. Pour it over the macaroni without mixing and 
bake a little color on top. 

This makes a very attractive dish; the yellow 
cheese and custard showing up in spots among the 
white Darsley sauce. 



1226. 



Supreme of Sweetbreads with 
Truffles. 



Parboil calves sweetbreads that are large enough 
to split the flat way and press (hem between two 
dishes until cold. Draw fine strips of fat bacon 
through with a small larding needle. Split in 
halves, trim to shape, simmer in butter and a few 
spoonfuls of broth, with a 11 ' tie lemon juice and 
bunch of parsley, uniil done, or about 20 minutes. 

Place a little foundation of boiled rice (spread on 
another dish and cut out with a cutter) in each in- 
dividual dish, a sweetbread with it and the sauce 
(No.1221) poured over. 

Have ready some black truffles cut in slices and 
stamped to some shape with a fancy vegetable cut. 
ter. Shake them up in the clear part of melted 
butter in a pan over the fire, and place the shapes 
as an ornamental border carefully upon the white 
sauce. 



1227. Pineapple Fritters with Curacoa. 

To make the old style frying batter wilh ale take: 
4 cupfuls of flour. 

1 cupful of ale. 

2 eggs. 

1 tablespoonful of sugar dissolved in the ale. 

3 tablespoonfuls of melted lard. 

Put all in a pan at once and stir up thoroughly. 
Let stand an hour before using and the ale will 
make the batter light. 

Drain slices of canned pineapple from theirjuice, 
dip in batter and fry in hot lard. Drain, and break 
off the rough edges. 

When curacoa is added to a starch syrup (No. 
490) it changes the color to a beautiful rose pink. 



Study of Notable Menus. 

Dinner at the Gait House, Louisvil'e, Ky , A. S. 
Cooper, manager. Tendered by the Bar Associat on 
to a visiting Lord Chief Justice, October, 1883 
MENU. 
Shell Oysters. haut barsac 

Celery. 



Consomme Imperial, queen shekry. 

Broiled Pompano, Venitienne. haut sauterne. 

Hollandaise Potatoes. 
Soft Shell Crabs, Chancellor Sauce 



Supreme of Chicken with Truffles. pape clemknt. 
French Peas. 



Roast Fillet of Beef, Sauce Bernaise 

Cauliflower. giesler special seo. 



CHAMPAGNE PUNCH. 



Roast Saddle of Kentucky Mutton. " 

Puree of Turnips and Mashed Potatoes. 
Roast Grouse, Game Sauce " 



Pastry. Cheese. 

Vanilla Ice Cream. 



Fruits in Season. 
Cafe. cognac vieroe. 



COMMENTS. 

Consomme imperial is a sort of diplomatic broth, 
apparently, for it was named imperial when France 
was under the empire, and consomme royal when 
emperors went out and kings came in — in other 
words, consomme imperial and consomme royal are 
the same thing; a brandy colored clear soup with 
little egg cus ards floating in the plates. Fish a la 
Venitienne is the Dubois style of a la Maitre d' hotel' 
(he refined form of butter, lemon juice and parsley 
in combination to form a sauce. These menus are 
;n plain language, however, but something else 
needs to be named. 



It is often a matter of regret in presenting these 
specimen bills of fare that they have to be so entire, 
ly divested of the attractiveness that the engravers 
and printers have bestowed upon the original card. 
Our own purpose is fully subserved when it is shown 
what dishes to ohoose for any particular occasion 
and how they are to be prepared, but beyond that 
there is a vast amount of ingenuity and taste to be 
exercised in making a handsome menu. 

Thus, the bill of the Grand Pacific banquet, a few 
pages back, was printed with large script for the 
principal dishes, and small script for the vegetables 
and accompaniments, on two fine white cards joined 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



353 



by white satin clasps. That of the Leland was a 
costly souvenir of the occasion which the guests re- 
tained. The Brunswick of Boston regularly prints 
the names of dishes in lines of small capitals and 
adds the sty'e or accompaniment in small print. 
The Gait House is preeminent for the variety, as 
well as be.uty of its menus, everything that is 
brought out in the way of fine cards and specialties 
invented for particular occasions being called into 
requisition for its luncheons, dinners and special 
parties. Thrse things, of course, constitute an- 
other department of the business of preparing a 
banquet which we can only mention but not do 
justice to. 



Regular dinner bill of the Gait House: 
TAHLE D'HOTE. 
6 to 8 p. m. 



Sunday, November 14th, 1883 

raw oysters. 

Celery. 

SOUP. 

Cream of Celery 

FISH. 

Broiled Whitefish, Maitre d'Hotel Sauce. 

BOILED. 

Young Capin wilh Egg Sauce. 

ROAST. 

Young Pig, Apple Sauce, Loin of Beef, au jus, 

Young Turkey, Cranberry Sauce, 

Saddle of Veal with Dressing. 

(QALT HOUSE PUNCH.) 
SALADS. 

Potato Lobster. Italian. 

ENTREES. 

Cutlets of Lamb with French Peas, 

Macaroni and Cheese. Sauce Tomato, 

Banana Fritters, Sherry Wine Sauce. 

VEGETABLES. 

Boiled Onions, Boiled Rice. Stewed Tomatoes, 
Sugar Corn, Boiled and Mashed Potatoes. 

PASTRY. 

Steamed Raisin Pudding, Hard Sauce. 
Apple Custard Pie. Peach Pie. Assorted Cake. 

CHEESE. 

Roquefort, Edam American. 

DESSERT. 

Charlotte Russe, Taffy Candy, 

Strawberry Ice Cream, Fruit in Season. 

Coffee. 
Galt House, Louisville; Ky, 

The Steward of the Gait House is Charles Astor 
Howard; Chief Cook, Frank Rhul; Pastry Cook and 
Confectioner; John Theobald. 



Ninth Day. 

Old plantation vegetable soup. 



Smothered rabbit, country style. 
Backbone stew, egg dumplings. 
Baked corn custard. 
Pumpkin bread. 

1228. Old Plantation Vegetable Soup. 

This plain soup lacks the element of mystery 
which makes the bouilabaisse and garbure of Prov- 
ence, the olla podrida and gaspacho of Spain, the 
pilaff ot Turkey and the ouka of Russia, — not to in- 
clude the Mexican stew of green chilies, tomatoes 
and corn — strike such an impression in print, but 
as long as a soup is considered in the light of some- 
thing which people like to eat this one will continue 
to "take the cake." 

Not necessary to have any stock but, early in the 
morning, put into a lirge boiler. 

All the marrow out of a leg bone of beef: 
4 gallons of cold water. 

1 large fowl, a beef tongue, a chine of fresh 
pork, three or four pigs feet, a piece of pickled 
pork — one or two or all of them acoording to what 
may be on hand at the time, but never put in any 
mutton. 

All the soup beef besides that the water will 
cover. 

Some more marrow out of the broken bones. 

Let it stew four hours. 

Then take out the meat and out up portions of any 
kind that is not fat; about a quart; and put it in 
the soup, also, 

Onions, turnips, cauliflower, celery, or any vege- 
tables except carrots and beets — about a cupful of 
each. 

1 pint of tomatoes cut in pieces, 
pint of corn. 

pods of red pepper chopped. 
A small bunch of garden herbs — thyme, mar- 
joram and parsley. 

Let boil until the vegetables are done, then add a 
pint of flout and water thickening and salt to ta-te. 



There is a good deal of needless anxiety in some 
places to remove every particle of grease from the 
top of the soup, somegoing so far as to use blotting 
paper and, perhaps, a microscope, to find the most 
minute particles. They would fail if they were to 
try to find such a honor of the fat that shines in 
spots on the surface of a good plate of soup among 
the people who consume it. Most people like fat 
beef, fat fowls, fat butter, and seem to be quite 
tolerant of a little fat — marrow-fat — on their soup 
that they sup with bread and crackers. However, 
it is a matter of taste, perhaps of training, find in 
any case we do not want fat by the spoonful in our 
tureen. 



354 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



1229. Smothered Rabbits, Country 
Style. 

Take eight ral>bit9 and chop off the heads, feet 
and tbin ribs, and divide them each into six cuts; 
the two legs, two shoulders, and two pieces of back. 
Keep back the pieces of young rabbit, if they can 
be known by their smaller size. Boil the large one g 
in a pot of seasoned stock about two hours, then put 
in the young ones and let stew half an hour longer, 

1 ke up the pieces into a baking pan, put in half 
a cup of butter and a cup of milk, dredge with salt 
andpepperand flour and set in a hot oven. It is 
an object to get a brown outside on the pieces of 
rabbit as quickly as possible, which is the purpose 
of the milk and butter, for they both cause a quick 
brown. If not so managed the meat is dry and 
striugy and nobody cares for it. When slightly 
colored on all sides pour in the remainder of the 
liquor the rabbits were stewed in and serve it as 
giavy with each dish. 



1230. Backbone Stew, Egg Dumplings. 

2 pork backbones. 
4 leaves of sage. 
1 onion. 

1 teaspoonful of minced red pepper. 

2 cups of milk. 
Flour thickening. 

2 eggB and 2 cups of flour for dumplings. 

Chop the backbones in pieces and wash in oold 
water to get rid of the splinters of bone. 

Boil about 2 hours in water, just enough to 
cover, with the seasonings in it, and when boiled 
down low put in the milk and thicken to the con- 
sistency of cream. 

To make the ribbon dumplings, mix two raw 
eggs with an equal amount of cold water, add a 
litilesaltand stir in flour enough to make dough 
Kuead on the table, roll out as thin as the back of a 
knife and cut in narrow ribbons with a rolling 
paste-jagger; divide in suitable lengths, drop into a 
saucepan of boiling water and cooi about 10 min. 
utes. 

Dish up the stew in deep dishes and place the 
dumplings on top with a fork. They are yellower, 
and easier to place if cooked separately this way 
than if mixed in the stew. 



1231. Baked Corn Custard. 

2 cans of corn — dry, solid packed. 
J cup of butter. 
1 rounded teaspoonful of salt 
J teaspoonful of white pepper. 
6 eggs. 

1 quart of milk. 
Empty the corn into a pan and maBh it a little; 



melt the butter and stir it in; mix eggs and milk 
together, stir them into the corn, put in a 4-quart 
pan and bake until just fairly set in the middle 1 
Too long baking makes it watery. 



1232. Pumpkin Bread. 

Bake a pumpkin in large pieces in order to get 
pulp very dry. Mix with the mashed pulp all the 
corn meal it will take up, adding a little salt and a 
little lard, or some small broken cracklings from the 
rendering kettle, if in the season. Take up large 
spoonfuls and place them shaped like goose eggs in 
a greased pan and bake about an hour. 



Tenth Day. 

Consomme with vegetables. 



Beef a la mode. 

Mutton chops breaded, tomato sauce. 

Hot spiced pigs feet. 

Hulled corn and milk. 

1233. Consomme with Vegetables. 

This is a clear soup with plenty of vegetables in 
it and they should be of as many different colors 
and kinds as may be convenient, leaving out toma- 
toes, which make all soups alike, but including red 
carrots, yellow ruta-bagas, white turnips, green 
string beans, celery, peas, cauliflower, salsify, cab- 
bage, lettuce, leeks, onions, and either green or salted 
cucumbers. Only a small quantity of each kind is 
wanted; about half a carrot, half cupful of peas, and 
so forth; the idea being that a vegetable soup can be 
made at any season with whatever kinds may be 
within reach. Take, for proportions, 

2 gallons of clear soup stock. 

1 quart of hard vegetables cut up. 

1 quart of green vegetables. 

8 tablespoonfuls of corn starch. 

Salt and pepper. 
Draw off the stock clear from thb stock boiler 
through a fine strainer and set it on the back of the 
range. 

Cut, first, some string beans into little diamond 
shapes and then cut all the other vegetables as near 
like them as possible (you can't get an assistant to 
do that any more than you can to cut julien vege 
tables fine, or soup nudles). 

Boil those that take longest to cook first, in a 
saucepan alone, drain away the water and the 
strong taste and put the vegetables in the soup along 
with the cauliflower and peas, cabbage or lettuce 
and let boil until done. 

If ihe clear soup seems not very rich stir up a 
little starch with a pint of cold stock and add at 
last. It gives apparent substance without destroy- 
ing its clearness. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



We give the following more space than it is really 
worth in deference to the curious interest in the 
name we have found among ho'ei cooks. 



T.eef a la mode appears to be a dish of English 
origin. The French wonld hive called it. a la mode 
Anglaise — "in the English fashion" — and then 
shortened it to a F Anglaise or, a la mode something 
else, and not have stopped at mode. The English 
always were good at cooking rounds of beef plain, 
and perhaps t'ds was the first attempt they made 
to do it up in a French style, It seems to have first 
come into repute in Prince BUdud's city of Bath. 
It proved to be pretty god, all thiogs considered, 
hut there are several spurious dishes passing under 
the same name; one we find is contemptuous'y al- 
luded to by nn English cook as "the hashed meat of 
the eiting houses." Another, or possibly the same 
thing, is. a brown stew of small pieces of beef; an- 
other is beef stuffed with veal and oysters, and so 
it goes. But the following is unquestionably the 
real beef a la mode. 

1234. Beef a la Mode. 

A way of making a tough piece of lean beef tender 
and well flavored: 

Take a solid lean piece of beef thai is not tender 
enough to cut into first-class steaks; and about as 
large as a common leg of mutton. 

1 pound of fat bacon or dry salt pork cut in thick 
strips. 

Some mixed spices in a plate to roll the strips of 
bac n in. 

1 cupful of chopped onions. 

4 clove-i of garlic. 

3 bay leaves. 

1 pint of ale. 

J pint of common red wine. 

1 teaspoonful black pepper. 

Same of salt, and a pinch of cayenne. 

Soup stock or water lo cover the meat. 
There shonld be in the kitchen a glass jar of pre- 
pared spices and herbs as directed at No. 789, if 
there is not mix some cloves, mace, allspice and 
herbs in a plate, roll thestripsof salt bacon in the 
mixture, then insert them in the beef by means of a 
large lance larding needle. Put the scraps remain- 
ing in a deep saucepan with the other articles 
named, except the stock, and the beef ou top, cover 
with the lid and let simmer until it is nearly dry, 
then put in water or stock to come level with the top 
of the meat, cover down, and keep it gently boiling 
at the back of the range 5 or hours. Turn it over 
once or twice. When the beef is thoroughly tender 
ta'e it up and strain the liquor that remaius, skim 
off all the fat, and reduce it by boiling to the rich- 
ness of melted jeliy. Slice the meat crosswise of 



the larding and pour a little of the sauce over each 
slice. If you use no cooking wine add a spoonful of 
vinegar. 



Beef a la mode is in better demand for a cold dish 
at lunch than hot for dinner. 

The way unskilled cools spoil it, generally, is by 
letting it boil dry and begin to brown at the bottom, 
when the onions and spices make an unpleasant 
taste, and, again, by serving it with common brown 
sauce instead of its own glaze. Another error is the 
addition of carrots and celery in excess of what may 
be in the stock There may be people somewhere in 
the wo' Id as excessively fond of carrots as some 
French cooking directions w< uld lead us tobeli ve, 
still it is a perpetual wonder why they never come 
to Am: rican hotels. There is no surer way of get- 
ting a dish left unconsumed than to crowd into it 
the peck of carrots, turnips and celery that some of 
the te tellers advise. 



A way of procuring more of the glaze or gravy 
for a dish like the foregoing, or the scollops of beef 
at No. 1199, is to stew some soup beef in a separate 
saucep m and boil down the liquor nearly dry, then 
add it to the other. 



1235. Mutton Chops Breaded, Tomato 
Sauce, 

Cut and trim mutton chops as if for broiling; 10 
or V2 may be enough for a dinner entree. 

Break two eggs in a pan, add half as much water, 
beat together, dip the chops in it and then in crack- 
er meal. Press on a good coating without rubbing 
bare spots for the grease to get in. Lay the chops 
in the wire basket and dip into lard that is hot 
enough to hiss. Cook about 6 minutes. Tomato 
sauce, No. 1120. 



The best way to bread any article without using 
eggs is to mix together one-third flour and two- 
thirds cracker meal. Dip the piece of meat in it, 
then in a plate of milk, then in the mixture again, 
and let lie a few minutes before dropping it in the 
hot fat. Milk takes on a better brown color thin a 
wetting with water would nfford. 



1236. Hot Spiced Pigs' Feet. 

The same as a la vinaigrette. Boneless pigs' feet 
in a pearl-colored sauce. 

Put on a pint of clear broth or stock, half a pod of 
red pepper minced in it and half a cupful of vine- 
gar. When it boils thicken it with flour to the 
consis'ency of thin cream. 

Throw in a tables; oouful of green pickle and the 
same of capers, and a little salt. 

Have ready some shapes stamped out of slices of 
beets in vinegar, and a saucer with minced ;olks of 
eggs, or minced parsley, and ornament the dishes 
with them as they gi in. 



356 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



1237. Hulled Corn or Home Made 
Hominy. 

Steep a qua't of white com in weak lye for two 
days, wash in two waters and boil about 4 hours or 
until tender. The lye from the leach of wood ashe a 
is the kind generally used, but a weak solution of 
concentraled lye will answer and if that is unavail- 
able mix a handful of haking soda in water enough 
to cover the corn twice over and let steep in that. 
Wash well before cooking, eat with salt and milk. 



In most large towns there are persons who make 
a business of supplying eating houses and hotels 
with the lunch and breakfast dish of hulled oorn 
ready prepared. 

Leland Hotel. 

LUNCH. 



breakfast at the hour when others take lunch, and 
a good many people take dinner. 



These luncheon cards are changed and printed 
anew every day, the same as the dinner bills. A 
number of such dishes as are used for these informal 
meals, and equally good for breakfast and supper, 
are found described in this and the adjoining p iges. 
Specimens of breakfast and supper cards will follow 
further on. 



Oatmeal and Milk Buttermilk 

Mush and Milk Cracked Wheat and Milk 
Graham Bread Plain Bread French Bread 

Dry, Buttered and Cream Toast 
Hulled Corn and Milk 

SOUP 

Consomme 



Raw 



Stewed 



HOT DISHES 

Beef a la Mode 
Mutton Chops Breaded, Tomato Sauce 

COLD MEATS. 

Roast Beef Turkey Boneless Pigs' Feet Tongue 

Potato Salad Corned Deef Chicken Salad 

Ham Chipped Beef Sardines 

Pickled LambB' Tongue 

Boston Baked Beans. 



Mashed Potatoes 
Boiled Rice 

Olives 
Pickled Cabbage 



Boiled Potatoes 
Stewed Tomatoes 



Cake 



Ice Cream 



Chow Chow 
Pickled Beets 

Fruit 



Ooiong, Black and Green Tea 
Chocolate Coffee with Cream 

Chicago, November 18, 1883. 



comments. 

These meals, it is seen, bring into requisiti -n a 
number of those dishes that have delighted the 
hearts of all gourmands from Rabelais down (and 
the monks of St. Menehould might now be forgotten 
if it were not for the reputation they gained for 
their fried pigs' feet) but which for some cause do 
not seem fine enough for the dinner bill of fare. 
They are none the less necessary for the cook to 
know and practice. In many hotels the same list 
of secondary dishes is used to serve at supper, the 
regular dinner being in the middle of the day. The 
writer had business at a northern summer resort 
house a short time ago where three entrees of some 
kind were served at every supper, besides the usual 
supper dishes. In the South a similar variety of 
stews and minor dishes prevails at breakfast instead 
of supper. 

Consomme paysanne is soup or broth in couutry 
style; a clear vegetable soup the same as No. 1233. 
But the distinctions are so nearly without a differ- 
ence that the addition or omi-sion of lettuce or cab- 
bage is sufficient to change the name. 

This bill of fare has choice dishes enough for an 
elegant Sunday dinner. 



Among all the published bills of fare has anyone 
ever seen one of a hotel midday lunch? Here are 
two specimen cards. The regular Iceland Hotel 
bill of fare is not in French like that of their ban- 
quet, but is as easy to read as this. There is an 
evident provision made for those wno take their 



LUNCHEON. 

1 to 2:30 p.m. 

Sunday, October 21, 1883. 

SOUP. 

Consomme Paysanne 
^entrees. 
Fried Chicken, Cream Sauce 

Fillet of Beef Larded, Mushroom Dressing 
(orange water ice.) 
salads. 
Potato Mayonnaise of Shrimp Celery 

cold dishes. 
Roast Beef Spiced Pigs' Feet Ham Tongue 

VEGETABLES. 

Fried Corn Baked Potatoes Boiled Rice 



Fruits in season. 
Tea Coffee 

Dinner from 6 to 8 p. 
Galt House, Louisville, Ky. 



Milk 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



357 



1237 a. Devils— What They Are. 

It seems probable there would be no devils now 
if it were not for the packers of canned meats; the 
latter day tendency to pick and cut out and banish 
glycerinate, mollify or smoith over all the strong 
words would prevent these dishes ever being men- 
tioned to ears polite if it were not for the rows of 
cans of devilled ham, devilled turkey, chicken, crabs, 
and the like, seen on the shelves at the provision 
stores. We don't know where these packers find 
the authority for calling such meats devilled; in this 
case they are simply finely minced and seasoned, all 
ready for spreading in sandwiches; devilled crab 
and lobster as sold in these closed tin cans are only 
the selected meat cut small, and ready to be season. 
ed, and variously prepared for the table. Proper 
devils, however, are broils or grills. Sir Walter 
Scott in Guy Mannering takes the reader into a hotel 
kitchen in Edinburgh, "where a number of cooks 
were emploved in roasting devils on a gridiron." 
In Lever's Tom Burke, one officer asks another to 
come and take a devilled bone and a kidney with 
him, and in numberless instances we find mentioned 
Indian devils, wet devils and dry devils, devilled 
chickens, pigeons, rabbits, spareribs and everything 
that can bejbroiled, for they u are always broils or 
grills ( grill is the French for gridiron), the Indian 
devil being seasoned with hot East India sauces, the 
dry devil being simply broiled chicken on toast 
without a sauce. Singular that the true devils of 
half a century ago should be so completely banished 
and get so completely replaced by such new loves 
as crabs dressed au gratinaud termed devils without 
reason. Should a customer come along, however, 
one of the old school, or one used to the London 
club house dishes, and call for a devilled kidney, or 
even a devilled woodcock, he will simply want it 
broiled, with butter, salt and pepper for sauce. 



soup smooth and thick; the shoes cut thin need not 
be strained out. But when the older pods are 
brought to the kitchen they can still be used for 
soup if no better can he had, and the soup must be 
straiued afterwards, because they will not b il quite 
tender. The same with sliced and dried okra. It 
can also be bought iu cans, aud better yet in bottles 
iu the form of. i green powder called file gumbo, 
(pronounced felay and meaning dried). It will be 
understood from this that the exact amount to use 
cannot be stated, but the cook will put in according 
to the kind. There should be boiled rice as a vege- 
table the same day. 

8 quarts of soup stock. 
1 large fowl. 

4 slices of ham or salt pork. 
2-qaart panful of sliced okra. 
J cupful of minced onion. 
1 bay leaf. 1 pod of red pepper. 
1 cupful of flour. 
Boil the fowl in the soup stock or stock boiler 
until tender, then let it get cold and after that cut 
it into r eit small pieces. Fry (saute) the slices of 
ham and pieces of chicken in the same pan together 
until they are brown, then put them into the soup 
pot (there isalwaysa second potthatyour soups are 
finally brought together and finished in) to wait till 
the stock is seasoned and thickened in the other. 
Put the flour into the frying pan and brown it in the 
ham fat, setting it in the oven if necessary, then 
empy the contents into the soup and add the onion, 
bayleaf and pepper. Boil half an hour. Strain 
into the soup pot where the pieces of chicken are, 
add the sliced okra and boil slowly about an hour 
longer, skimming off the fat as it rises at the side. 
It is a dark green soup. Put a tablespoonful of 
boiled rice in each plate as it is served. Take out 
the slices of ham, but serve the pieces of chicken in 
the soup. 



Eleventh Day. 



Chicken gumbo soup. 



Devilled ham — old style. 

Young rabbit with Soubise sauce. 

Macaroni and cheese — American. 

Fricasseed oysters in border. 

French toast, wine sauce. 



1238. Chicken Gumbo Soup. 

One of the fust things required of a co ik who 
go^s south is to make the different sorts of okra 
soups. Okra is the seed pod of a tall garden plant. 
It is cooked as a vegetable, also, just the same as 
Btring beans. When the pods are youug they will 
dissolve in boiling into a kind of gum and make the 



1239. Devilled Ham— Old Style. 



Old style is a Vancienne in French, and new style 
is a la moderne. 

This is a good dish for a stop-gap for days when 
there is noihing in market, or extra arrivals afteran 
insufficient dinner has been prepared. 

10 slices of ham or shoulder. 

J cupful of butter. 

1 tablespoonful of dry mustard. 

1 teaspoonful of black pepper. 

1 cucumber pickle minced. 

i cupful of vinegar and water. 
Broil the ham nicely over the coals. Mix all the 
other articles in a bright tin pan together and drop 
the hot slices of ham on top. When all are mingled 
and at boiling heat there will be a thick, yellow > 
puugent sauce in the pan and more slices of ham 
ean be I'ddcd as wanted, 



158 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



1240. Stewed Rabbit, Soubise Sauce. 

Gut rabbits in joints over night and steep in cold 
water to wbiteu them. Stew tender, lime according 
to age, and have the liquor they stew in highly sea- 
soned with salt and pepper, and if a piece of b:icon 
in it all the belter. 

Meantime make the white onion sauce by chop 
ping onions small and stewing in water until tender 
enough to mash, then put them through a coarse 
slrainer or seive, add salt and milk to the puree, 
boil and thicken so (hat a spoonful poured over the 
piece of rabbit in the dish will remaii and coat it 
over. 



Sauce Soubise, or cream of onions, is named for 
its reputed inventor, the Prince de Soubise, else- 
where already referred to in this book. From this 
onion sauce, as a starting point, we find several 
other dishes labelled a la Soubise because they con- 
tain onions in excess, such as onion soups both 
white and brown, and fowls stuffed with onions. 
The Prince thus made famous, rescued from the 
oblivion into which all his friends and companions 
are faded and gone, is meutiousd in a note to the 
Scottish Chiefs as having been, on the French side, 
present at the battle in which "Prince Charlie," of 
Scotland, met his final defeat, and his tent was 
found as full of perfumes and toilet articles and 
all sorts of foppish appliances as an ordinary lady's 
boudoir. 



as tartlets, in a pan. Place one such ring or bor- 
der in the dish and fill with the yellow fricassee. 



1241. Macaroni and Cheese— Plain. 

1 pound of macaroni. 

1 cupful of minced cheese. 

i cupful of butter. 

1 quart of water or milk. 

2 tablespoonfuls of flour. 

2 eggs. Salt. Cracker-meal. 

Break the macaroni into flngerlengths and throw 
it into a saucepan of boiling water. When it has 
cooked 20 minutes pour all into a colander to drain. 

Put it in a 2-quart pan, mix the cheese and butler 
with it. Mix the flour smooth and add it to the 
water or milk, then the eggs and some salt, and 
pour it to the macaroni. Sift cracker-meal on top. 
Bake brown on top. Dish out with a spoon. 

The use of a little flour saves eggs and i-s an ad- 
vantage; but the dish of macar.ini should never be 
dry and solid enough to cut in blocks. The quality 
of the cheese used alsi urates a great difference. 



1241 a. Fricasseed Oysters in Border. 

Scald the oysters in iheir own liquor. Strain 'he 
liquor from them into another saucepan, add an 
equal quantity of milk and a little suit and cayenne. 
When it boils add a little thickening, then two yolks 
of eggs and juice of h .If a lemon. Soon as it shows 
signs of boiling again put in the oysters. 

Cut ova! rings of puff paste and bake ihem, same 



1241 b. French Toast, "Wine Sauce. 

20 slices of bread. 
1 cupful of miik. 

1 tablesponnful of flour. 

2 or 3 yolks of eggs. 

3 lablespoonfuls of sugar. 

Mix the flour gradually with the milk in a pan, 
(or use a largo spoonful of thickening instead) add 
the yolks well beaten. This is not a batter, but only 
thick as cream. 

Dip one side of slicss of bread in the mixture, 
place them with the dipped side up in a buttered 
baking pan, dredge granulated sugar over and bake 
them on the shelf in the range to get a good br.iwn 
glpze on top. Serve in dish with wine pudding 
sauce. 



Several different things Jare understood by the 
term French toast. We shall not attempt to deter- 
mine which is the right article, as anything what- 
ever may be termed French and there is nothing 
dflinite about it. The common, almost universal 
U tel French toast is the bread fried in batter at No. 
256, which is a bread fri'ter, and the sauce makes 
it good. However, the best coaks make it olher 
ways, either as above described or the same way 
prepared but browned on a griddle instead of in the 
oven, or else the bread spread with butter and sugar 
only, baked brown, then dipped in batter and 
fried. 

The way we have given (No. 1241 a) is probably 
the best, and as a restaurant dish is most satisfao. 
tory if served in a soup plate of hot milk. 



There is a great misuse of the words aux and au 
in bills of fare which have come this year from 
hotels of every section, from the most prominent as 
well as the obscure. Instead of ala, a considerable 
number have written aux, which is Dot the same 
thing, neither is it quite the same as our "with," 
and to use such in wrong connections so far from 
showing high-tone and learning, is just as bad as to 
write a eggs, or them molasses or any other sample 
of bad grammar. As near as can be explained as 
they are used in bills of fare, au means to-it, and 
aux means to-them. The first is right when that 
which follows ^is one thing, as truffles au macaroni; 
but aux must be used when it is eeveral, as macaroni 
aux truffles. 

We notice all the menus call it "St. Julien" 
soup if they have it at all; it should be known, 
however, that it is named for a New York res- 
taurant keeper who was not a saint. It is the 
old French "saute soup" which Brillat-Savarin 
showed Julien how to make, in New York, and it 
took his name 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



359 



"We had hot spiced pigs' feet put in the entrees 
today and they were well received" — writes one of 
our pupils, referring to No. 1236, which appeared 
last week, and goes on — "I followed the reading to 
the letter, only after boning rolled each foot in a 
piece of twine to reboil in the spiced sauce; they 
unrolled in good shape on the small platters and 
with the sauce poured over and garnished with hard 
boiled yolks had an appetizing appearance — have 
had fine success in the plain, easy way these entree 
dishes are written." 



That is right, and one thing well learned leads to 
others; now try calves' brains the same way, and 
we make this remark save the space of repeating 
the receipt for it. 



[Having thus far digressed from the regular line 
let us add what the steward of a prominent club 
writes, for these are among the many evidenoes at 
hand that this is all considered very live matter 
indeed by a large and important class of readers of 
the National Hotel Reporter. This correspond- 
ent says: 

"Your books are all full of good sense for the 
benefit of both the cook and the steward; but this, I 
think, will be more valuable than either of the 
others, for it helps the cook out where he most needs 
help. The average cook does not make good soups, 
and his list of entrees is very limited. Having one 
of your books, however, it will be his own fault if 
he fail in either quality or var.ety."] 



Pattern of the Hotel Menus of the Future. 



MENU. 



Stewed Oysters Consomme Koyal 

Kennebec Salmon, Hollandaise Sauce 
Parisian Potatoes 

Vol-au-Vent of Sweetbreads Chicken Croquettes 



Roast Beef 

Sweet Potatoes 



Roast Turkey 
Cauliflower 



Roquefort Cheese 
Miuce Pie 



Saddle of Venison, Currant Jelly Lettuce Salad 

Crackers 
Plum Pudding 

Neapolitan Ice Cream 

Cakes Fruit 

Coffee 

Thanksgiving, 1883, 
St. Clair Hotel, 

Cincinnati. 



Twelfth Day. 

Bouillon. 



Antelope steak saute, French potatoes 

Chipped beef in butler. 

Minced kidneys on toast. 

Fried sugar corn. 



1242. Bouillon. 

Bouillon is the liquor in which beef has been 
boiled; it is beef broth. Bouilli is boiled beef; it is 
the soup meat that has made the bouillon. Bouillon 
et bouilli, the soup first, and then the soup mea', is 
the common inartistic dinner of the common people, 
that French epicures have bandied jests about, while 
still respecting the simple excellence of the first part. 

If through any accident your intended soup or 
soup stock is spoiled, you will find the very best 
remedy for the trouble by putting on some fresh cut 
beef and fresh trimmed beef bones in cold water 
with a turnip, carrot and onion, and letting it boil an 
hour. Then strain it through a coarse strainer that 
will let the beef tea particles go through; add a very 
little thickening, and some salt and pepper, and, if 
the quantity consumed is to be taken as an indica- 
tion, you find the simple bouillon is as much thought 
of as any soup you make — that is, for once in a 
while. It is fine for a second soup when the other 
kind is rich and high flavored, and fine for lunch. 

There seems to be a perversion of terms when the 
so-called bouillon served in cups at fashionable par- 
ties, is clarified into consomme. 

ltistrue these names do notsignify much, but if 
bouillon means anything it means beef broth with 
the beef essence left in it. 



Consomme and bouillon, when served at parties' 
should have a slight seasoning of cayenne added, 
and a quarter slice of lemon dropped in the cup be- 
fore filling. 



1243. Antelope Steak Saute, French 
Potatoes. 

Sauteeing is the way that is commonly known as 
frying, in a little fat in a frying pan. 

Season the antelope steaks with salt and pepper 
and fry (saute) them ns wanted, a few at a time in 
several small pans with a little fresh roast meat 
drippings. Add a litile water to one or two of the 
pans when the slices are taken out and make a deep 
colored gravy to pour around in the dishes. 

Cut potatoes with a scollop knife and cook them 
before the meal begins by stewing in fat and lightly 
browning in the ovcu and sprinkling with parsley, 
as directed at No. 053. Serve them as a border with 
the steaks. 



360 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



1244. Chipped Beef in Butter. 

For lunch, breakfast or supper, shave dried beef 
very thinly, either with a knife or inverted plane. 
Tut into a pan enough butter to cover the bottom 
when melted, and then a cupful of the shaved beef. 
Dredge with pepper. Stir about. When fairly hot 
through it is done. May be served heaped up on 
thin toast or in individual deep dishes. 



1245. Minced Kidneys with Ham. 

2 beef kidneys. 

J pound of broiled ham — i slices. 

2 hard-boiled eggs. 

12 slices of fried bread or toast. 

Pepper and salt. 
Mince the ham fine in a chopping bowl and set it 
aside to be ready. Cut the kidneys small, putthem 
in a frying pan with a spoonful of drippings, or ham 
or sausage fat and shake th"m over the fire in the 
gravy that foims until the pieces are partly cooked. 
Too much cooking makes them hard. Drain them 
out with a spoon and chop fine. Put back in the 
gravy and the minced ham with it; add pepper and 
a little salt. Make hut without frying the moisture 
out. Dish on slices of toast and sprinkle with chop- 
ped eggs. 

Regular dinner bill of the Brunswick, Boston: 
MENU. 



OYSTERS ON SHELL. 
SOUP. 

puree of asparagus — aux croutons 

CONSOMME OP CHICKEN 
FISH. 

boiled penobscot salmon — butter sauce 
Hollandaise Potatoes Cucumbers 

REMOVES. 

Philadelphia capon, with pork — parsley sauce 
Loin of spring lamb — mint sauce 
Stuffed chicken — giblet sauce 
Sirloin of beef — mushroom sauce 

entrees. 
Croquette of sweet-bread — perigord 
Broiled antelope steak — au champagne 
Small chicken patties — a la reine 
Peach fritters, glace — en sabayon 

vegetables. 

mashed potatoes rice boiled potatoes 

new peas potatoes spinach 

bermuda onions macaroni 

mayonnaise. 
lobster chicken shtimps 

DESSERT. 

BAKED INDIAN PUDDING 

APPLE PIK MINCE TIE 

ASSORTED CAKE MACAR00N3 CHARLOTTE RUSSE 

CONFECTIONERY FROZEN PUDDING 

ROMAN PUNCH 

APPLES ORANGES BANANAS 

COFFEE 

Sunday, April 29, 1883. 



COMMENTS. 

The foregoing bill is of no particular occasion, but 
an estray of laBt April, used here to show one style 
of construction. 

"Puree of asparagus with crusts" — the soup is 
made by using the thin, green stalks and he ids of 
young asparagus because that can be cooked green 
instead of purple, and mashing it through a strainer 
in sufficient quantity to give a cream-like consist- 
ency to the stock. The common liking for bacon 
and cabbage is remembered in making this soup and 
a piece of bacon is boiled in it. There should also 
be some asparagus heads left whole to put in at last 
— croutons are dice-shaped pieces of bread toast- 
ed brown in a pan in the oven if to be Conde crusts, 
but if duchesse they are fried in clear butter — but 
the great Conde, who probably being the Bismarck 
of his day and being fond of these crusts in his 
soup, had none of our superfine American steam 
manufactured crackers, (oyster,soda, pic-nic, butter 
and Boston)if he had he would have liked them bet- 
ter than his crusts — at least that is the way with 
all of our generals and colonels. It is only about 
forty years since the first American machine-made 
crackers were sent over the water, and then the 
English thought them almost too good to eat. So 
when it is found in the old directions that all puree 
soups should have croutons served with them, it 
ought to be remembered that those poor unenlighten- 
ed people had nothing else that was'better, and 
while there is no harm in serving a few crusts, your 
people at table should not be annoyed by finding 
no room left in their plate of soup for the favorite 
oyster crackers. 

" Perigord " — standing for sweetbreads a la Peri- 
gord, is simply an allusion to truffles in the dres- 
sing; because the best truffles come fom Perigord — 
juBt as with us the best asparagus comes from New 
Jersey. 



1246. Fried Sugar Corn, or Corn 
Fritters. 



1 can solid packed corn. 
Butter size of an egg — 2 ounces. 
J cupful of flour — 2 ounces. 
1 teaspoonful salt. 
J as much pepper. 
3 eggs. 
Mash the corn to make it pasty, mix all the in- 
gredients in, make flattened cakes with flour on the 
hands and fry (saute) them in a frying pan, brown 
on both sides. 

To make corn fritters roll in shape of eggs with 
plenty of flour on the outside, and fry in the potato 
fryer immersed in hot lard or drippings. 
This makes 25 or 30. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



3fU 



1247. Sautes— What They Are. 

■'I ask you not to meet Mr So-and-so and Lord 
What d'ye-call-him; I ask you to meet a saute defoie 
gras, and a haunch of venison." 

"Confound the man! "was my mental anathema — 
"Long life to the Solomon of sautes, "was my aud- 
ible exclamation — " I will most certainly pay them 
my respects. Never did I know before how far 
things were better company than persons. Your 
lordship has taught me that great truth." 

The commonplace of those studied sentences of 
the novelist is that his lordship was going home to 
have some "fried" liver and bacon — sauteed, really, 
but very few of us have learned the difference of 
meaning of frying and sauteeing as yet — and the 
other one said he would be on hand and did not 
care if there was not any company if the saute was 
good and hot and had a nicely seasoned gruvy. 

A saute, then, is good enough for anybody. There 
is not a cook in any hotel but what can prepare one 
and does, very frequently. There is no French 
knowledge required for it, all that is wanted is to 
know how to get rid of the superfluous grease, if 
there be in any, and to thicken and season the pan 
gravy so that it tastes good. We have men ioned 
incidentally many times over that the comm n fry- 
ing of slices of meat in a common frying pan is 
sauteeing, and we have as much right to adopt that 
word and use it a-, to construct and adopt a new 
word for the telephone, when the language did not 
contain one ready. 

When a party of travelers alight at a wayside inn 
and must have a meal prepared in the shortest time, 
the cook cuts up it may be a chicken into the fry. 
ing pan, or perhaps a rabbit, or pork chops, or beef 
steak, or liver and bacon, cooks it over the fire, 
takes out the meat when done, stirs a spoonful of 
flour around in the pan, then pours in a little water 
and lets itboil up — that is a saute of chicken, rabbit 
or whatever it may be, and it is fine enough to put 
in any bill of fare, provided always that it be fresh 
cooked and hot just as it would be for a traveling 
party. 

Napoleon's chicken a la Marengo, the dish said to 
have been praised by him when served on the battle- 
field, is a saute of chicken with mushrooms and wine 
added to the sauce. Somewhere we have seen an 
anecdote of Prinoe Talleyand and his cook, the 
Prince angry at having been kept waiting, "But 
the saute? your excellency." "It is perfection," re- 
plied the Prince. Every cook who reads this can 
prepare a saute of any kind of meat; but remember 
to pronounce it sautay. 



Study of Notable Menus. 



Annual Game Dinner and Thanksgiving: Wind- 



sor Hotel, Saint P ul, Minn.; Summers aud Mon- 
fort Proprietors. 

MENU. 
Thursday, Nov. 29, 1883. 

SOUP. 

Marie Stuart 

FISH. 

Red Snapper 
Boiled Potatoes 

KEMOVES. 

Saddle of Antelope, Cranberry Jam 

Roast Brant, Apple Sauce 
Roast Turkey, Stuffed with Chestnuts 
Young Black Bear, Marechale 

Prairie Chicken, Stuffed 
Haunch of Buffalo, Cumberland Sauce 
Mallard Duck Canvas Back Duck Teal Duck 



LUCULLUS PUNCH. 



ENTREES. 

Red Squirrel Pot Pie 

Wild Goose, a la Fermiere 

Pheasant Saute, Hunters' Style. 
Opossum, Braised, with Sweet Potatoes 
Salmis of Grouse, with Mushrooms 

Ve-ison Steak, Sauce Dufour 



Broiled Quail on Toast 

LETTUCE SALAD 



COLD. 

Pate of Game Liver Chaufroix of Woodcock 

Snipe, en Bellevue 

VEGETABLES. 

Boiled and Mashed Potatoes 

String Beans Stewed Tomatoes 

Green Peas Green Corn 

PASTRY. 

English Plum Pudding, Brandy Sauce 

Lemon Meringue Pie Sliced Apple Pie 

Macaroons Eclairs au Confiture Vienna Cake 

DE-SERT. 

Nesselrode Ice Cream Orange Jellies Fancy Creams 
Biscuits a la Vanilla 



SWEET CIDEB. 



Oranges Apples Figs Nuts Raisins Malaga Grapes 
Coffee Cheese 



Ofthe Windsor the 1st Steward is C. J. Monfort; 
Chief Cook, Louis Du Verdier; Pastry Cook and 
Confectioner, Louis Hanson. 



302 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



COMMENTS. 

The special feature of the bill ia that all the meats 
are various kinds of game, from the soup which 
contains quenelles of partridge through the re- 
moves and entrees, (he qmil on toast — writ en 
there to observe the French form of a roti with 
salad, — to the three cold ornamental dishes; and it 
has been so managed that none of the kinds are 
named twice over, nor can it be fairly said that the 
same thing appears cooked in several ways at once. 
There is nothing that needs explanation. Lucullus 
is a good and favorite affix to anything that is fine 
and costly, that being the name of one of the most 
famous !; niiaii high-livers. 

The "a la Fermiere" to the wild goose means, in 
Farmer's style — the reason why it is fermiere, in- 
stead of fermier — farmer ess instead of farmer — 
feminine instead of masculine, is because all 
these qualifications are supposed to include the word 
mode, but to have dropped it for the sake of brevity, 
and mode being feminine, makes the style the same. 

The above menu was beautifully printed on a 
large double gilt-edge card very finely engraved 
specially for this occasion. 



Study of Notable Menus. 

Christmas dinner at the Brunswick, Boston. 
Barnes and Dunklee, Proprietors, 1883. 
MENU. 



BLUE POINTS. 

Puree of Tomatoes — croutons 

Consomme of Chicken — celery 
Fillet of Flounder, breaded — colbert 
Parisian Potatoes. 
Leg of Mutton — caper sauce 
Bremen Goose — chestnut dressing 
Stuffed Chicken — giblet sauce 
Sirb in of Beef — mushroom sauce 
Small Chicken Putties — falpicon 
Potted Qmils, truffled — sauce madere 



The S eward of the Brunswick is Charles A. 
Gleason; Chief Cook, Arnold Dedinger; Pastry 
Cook and Confectioner, Henry Mayer. 



Terrine de Foie-Gras — de Strasbourg 
Game Pie — chasseur Boned Turkey — jelly 



Canvas-back Duck 

Prairie Chicken, larded — bread sauce 
Dressed Leituce Dressed Celery 

Mashed Potatoes Boiled Potatoes 

Rice Tomatoes Peas Turnips Corn 

Onions Squash 

Lobster Salad Chicken Mayonnaise Shrimp Salad 

English Plum Pudding 

Mince Pie Pumpkin Pie Apple Pie 

Fruit Cake Chocolate Cake Swiss Meringues 

Champagne Jelly Confectionery 

Neapolitan Ices R< man Punch 

Roquefort Neufchatel 

Apples Oranges Bananas Grapes 

Coffee 



1248. Potting— "What it Means. 

Potted meats are both hot and cold dishes. It 
seems probable that the very ancient practice of 
packing down cooked meats in the form of a paste 
highly seasoned in small pots or jars made air 
tight at the top by a covering of melted butter, was 
the first thing intended to be expressed by potting, 
but as these meats are cooked in a covered jar in 
the oven, liked Boston baked beanB, for example, 
and as described at No. 1189 for potted pigeons, 
there could be nothing more natural than to serve 
them hot, also, and call them potted meats even be- 
fore iht'y were potted. 

However that may be, it is a term that is suffici- 
ently easy to be understood where intelligible culi- 
nary terms are so few, and the way of cooking is of 
the highest degree of excellence. Almost every 
cooking range has one very hot oven, and another 
that never heats up above the medium. The cool 
side is the one to set the jar in, with its covering of 
paste, to bake for three or four hours. 

Christmas dinner at the Burnet House, Cincin- 
nati. Dunklee, Barnes and Zimmerman, Pro- 
prietors, 1883. 

MENU. 



Oysters on Half Shell 

SOUP. 

Green Turtle Consomme 

FISH. 

Boiled Sheephead, Mashed Potatoes 

REMOVES. 

Saddle of Mutton, with Jelly Roast Beef 

Roast Goose, Stuffed with Apples 

Roast Turkey, Cranberry Sauce 

GAME. 

Red Head Duck, Stuffed with Oysters 
Broiled Quail on Toast 

Saddle of Venison with Jelly 

ENTItEES. 

Croquettes of Sweetbreads, with French Peas 

Hashed Turkey, with Poached Eggs 

Queen Fritters, with Jelly 

VEGETABLES. 

Mashed Potatoes Boiled Potatoes Stewed Tomatoes 
Rice Lima Beans Mashed Turnips 

Sweet Potatoes Spinach Sugar Corn 
Stewed Oyster Plant Onions 

COLD DISHES. 

Cold Ham Celery Chicken Salad Cold Tongue 

PASTRY AND DESSERT. 

Rice Pudding Plum Pudding Mince Pie Cream Pie 

Roman Punch Charlotte Russe Vanilla Ice Cream 

Assorted Cake Oranges 

Grapes Bananas 

Coffee 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



363 



1249. Salmis— "What they Are. 



This ia one of the few necessiry terms to use, 
because there is no other name. There is a thin 
distinction between salmi and salmis, but it is not 
observed and need not be. A salmi is a hash; a 
ea'mis is a dish of game recooked. It is as much as 
can be expected if bill of fire writeis can adopt 
salmi as meaning one dish and salmis for more than 
one. It U made by first roasting the game (and we 
do not kn,.w why it should not apply to poi'llry as 
well), then cutting it up into a sauce prepared for it 
by boiling down the bones and fragments in broth 
well seasoned, then thickening and straining it. 
The various styles or "a la modes" attached half 
the time have reference to the kind of seasoning in 
the sauce, as a salmis sauce strong with onions has 
one name, but if with wine it has another — which 
would be all very pretty if it could lie learnt — the 
other terms refer to the style of building up and 
trinming in the dish. But salmi or salmis can be 
us< d in the bill of fare without troubling about the 
after terms. A salmi of any small game is a more 
elaborate dish than a saute of the same thing, be- 
cause it has a sauce carefully prepared iostead of a 
quick-made gravy stirred up in the pan. 



1250. Fricassees— "What they Are. 

This, the last of the terms which occur to us as 
having become partially known and are used be- 
cause they are needed, is the least likely of all to be 
correctly used, for at least ten or twelve differently 
cooked dishes are called fricassees by the French 
masters, while domestic cookery calls any common 
white stew a white fricassee, and a brown sew a 
brown fricassee, but domestic cookery is wrongs 
and stew is the better nnme. French fricassees 
are all alike in one thing, and that is in being 
served in the creamy, yellow sauce, thickeued with 
eggs instead of flour, and containing either wine or 
lemon juice, called sauce a la poulette. Anything 
that is cooked, almost, from chicken breaded and 
fried to cucumbers sliced and stewed, is a fricassee 
if it has that kind of sauce to it, much the same 
as any kind of fowl or game is a supreme 
when it is in the sauce of that name. 

Sometimes, instead of such a stew being called a 
fricassee it is mentioned as something — scollops of 
veal for example — "en fricassee de poulette." or it 
maybe "a la poulette." 

The difference between this and a supreme, is 
that the fricassee sauce has eggs in it, thickening it 
like a custard, and supreme sauce has not, and the 
Bame egg thickening makes the distinction between 
a fricassee and any common sort of stew. 



MENU. 



Blue points on shell 
Celery 



Green Turtle, a l'Anglaise Scotch broth 

Olives Radishes 

Cannellons Francaise 



Baked Black Grouper.port wine sauce 
Potato beignets 



Sweetbreads glace, aux petits pois 
Patties of parsnips 



Roast sirloin of beef 

Roast Turkey, stuffed with oysters 

Baked sweet potatoes Marrow asparagus 

Sugar corn 



JAMAICA RUM PUNCH 



Roast quail, larded, with guavajelly 
Lettuce, a la mayonaise 



Boned oapon 



Shrimp salad 



Boiled plum pudding, hard sauce 
Pumpkin pie Charlotte russe Mince pie 

Assorted cake Claret wine jelly Pineapple ice cream 



Fruit Cider Biscuit Coffee 

The Windsor, Denver, Cob., Christmas, 1883. 



It would not do for all hotels to be alike, nor 
should a procrustean rule be applied when advice is 
asked as to which form of bill of fare should be 
adopted. The writer's own preference among all 
the specimens in these leaves is the Burnet House 
form, on the preceding page; but that is for the 
regular every day dinner, and its adoption does not 
prevent the use of a bill of the pattern of the two 
succeeding for a party dinner or supper. They are 
dinners to be served in courses. But the same 
dishes and the same number for each division, with 
the same simple expression of them in plain lan- 
guage, might be slightly changed in arrangement, 
and there would be the same table d'hote pattern to 
which we adverted above as near perfection as the 
exigencies of hotel business will ever allow us 
to go. 

Cannellons, — mentioned as a hot side dish in the 
above bill, will be fuund explained at No. 241— 
these have a morsel of minced meat rolled up in 
them — potato beignets are potato fritters, No. 280, 
and they are fine and not common — patties of par- 
snips may be another form of parsnip fritters or 
croquette 1 . 

Rissole — in the menu following, is the same thing 
as croquette, it being applied to the rolled form in- 



364 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



stead of the pear or other rounded shape; rissole 
and croquette both mean something crisp outside. 
The mince of fowl of this bill and the hashed turkey 
of the Burnet House bill are the same thing. It is 
a favorite dish at the fine restaurants and we can- 
nut see but it is just as well presented in such words 
as if it had been covered with some such term as 
euaufroix or salmis, or anything else that would not 
have been understood and would have caused it to 
be left uncalled for. 

MENU. 



Blue points 
Celery 



Green turtle 
Rissole of chicken 

Boiled trout 
Parisienne potatoes Sliced cucumbets 



Boiled turkey, oyster sauce 

Sugar cured ham 

Spinach Asparagus 



Sirloin ofbeef 

Chicken, sage dressing 

Mashed potatoes Sweet potatoes 

French Peaa Sugar corn 



Sunreme of sweetbreads, with truffles 
Mince of fowl, with poached eggs 



ROMAN PUNCH 



Boast quail Mallard duck 

Lettuce, a la niuyonaise 



Chicken salad 



Boned turkey 



Mince pie Plum pudding,brandy sauce Apple pie 

Claret wine jelly Lemon jelly 

Charlotte russe 



Vanilla ice cream 
Fancy cake 



Coffee 



Fruit Roquefort Cheese 

The Antlebs, Colorado Springs, Colo. 

Study of Notable Menus. 

Perhaps we cannot do better for on endiDg of the 
line of specimen dinner menus than to study the 
following for the benefit of such of our readers as 
still imagine some unapproachable heights of excel- 
lence existing in whatever is printed in French. 

It was an ideal affair that was never realized, for 
as a meal the dinner was a bad failure; a fact that 
has nothing to do with the dinner as planned in the 
mind of one or two or more of thebest informed and 
most experienced cooks in America. It is the 
menu of the dinner piven to Mr. Henry Villard's 
party of German tourists, who came to participate 
iu i he Northern Pacific Railroad opening. It took 
place at a fine suiumer resort house, the Hotel 
Lafayette, Lake Miuue.ouka, September, 1883. Tte 



preparations for it were, however, made in New 
York. Without knowing for a certainty why the 
dinner was a failure we think — and every hotel man 
who has bad to do with these too elaborate banquets 
will be ready to agree with us — that it was because 
the menu was in a language which the guests either 
did not understand at all, or did not understand the 
culinary terms; that the dinner was too tedious'y 
attempted to be served in courses, an intention which 
the party just from the wild west did notundeistand 
either, and began to leave the table before the second 
act of the formalities had commenced, thereby up- 
setting all pbins and losing the best of everything 
which was reserved for the last. However that may 
have been, this is a genuine French menu in arrange- 
men, language, spelling and choice of dishes. It 
was neatly printed in b'ue on heavy bristol board, 
edged with blue silk frioge, and on the last page was 
the monogram in old script "N. P. R. R." 
Blue Points sur coquille 

POTAOES. 

Bi que de crevettes Consomme d'Orsay 

hors d'cscvres. 

Varies Varies 

Petites bouchees au salpicon 

POISSONS. 

Bass rayee a la H jllandaise Filet de sole a la J oinville 
Concombres Pommes croquettes 

RELEVES. 

Selle de chevreuil a la Cumberland 

Jambon d'ourson au chasseur 

Tomates farcies 

ENTl-EES. 

Cotelettes de pigeonneaux, chevuliere 

Petits poi9 Francais 

Poitrine de cailles a l'Andalouse 

Quenelles de perdreaux a la St. Hubert 

Flageolets a l'Anglaise 

Ballottines d'ortolans a la Perigueux 

Fonds d'artichauts, Lyonnaise 

SORBET. 

Lucullus 

ROTI. 

Poule de prairie Sarcelles 

Salade escarole 

PIECES MONTEES. 

Paniers garnis aux fruits Pyramide en nougat 

Chalet Suisse Chapelle Turque 

Vues du Lac Minnetonka 

Come d'abondance 

Chemin de fer du Northern Pacific entrent dans le 

tunnel Mullen 

SUCRES. 

Pudding a la Tyrolienne, sauce sabayon 

Glace Napolitaine Bavarois au choculat 

Petits fours assortis 

FruitB Fromage Cafe 

VINS. 

Chateau Yquem Amontillado 

Johannisberger Cabinet 

Chateau Cos d'Estournel, '74 

Roedrrer Pommery Chateau Lafite, '65 

Clos de Vougeot 

Liqueurs 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



363 



The above was the production, probably, of 
Eugene Mehl, for a long time chief cook of the 
Windsor and Brevoort Hotels, New York. It was 
reported early in the season that a French cook 
who had lately gained some reputation in the service 
of the President of the United Stales was engaged 
for this hotel, and he may have been ooncerned iu 
it likewise. 



TRANSLATION. 

The names of the styles and the sauces are from 
an expensive French work but little known iu this 
country, a book that is principally devoted to what 
has been called the "fuss and feathers of ornamental 
cookery." 

Oysters — On shell. 

Soup — Bisque of prawns.and an amber clear soup. 

Side dishes — Various — such as olives, lettuce, 
caviar; and a hot patty with a little highly seasoned 
mince inclosed. 

Fishes — Striped bass with Hollandaise sauce.and 
fillet of sole with a ragout of truffles and crayfish — 
cucumbers and potato croquettes. 

Releves — Saddle of venison with Cumberland 
s»uce — ham of young bear, hunters style, or with 
game sauce — stuffed tomatoes (farcies is filled with 
farce, which is French for and the original of our 
forcemeat — there is no beef or other ordinary kind 
of meat in this menu. 

Entrees- Pigeonneaux is the French for "squabs" 
—cutlets as described at No. 1217 — chevaliere style 
is breaded a- d fried — French peas with them — 
brea«t of quails, sauce Andalouse (No. 938) — 
quenelles of partridges, a paste made by pounding 
the meat fine, seasoning, making in shapes and 
poaching them in seasoned broth — St. Hubert is the 
patron saint of hunters — flageolets, French beans 
dress d with butter, salt and pepper — ballottines are 
rendered fillets in English, they are the breasts 
with wing joints attached, but we suppose that in 
this case the ballottines were the little butter ball 
birds l)oned and not divided, thus bringing the 
gradation of dishes down to the finest point because 
ortolans are the most rare and expensive of Euro- 
pean birds, like our reed birds, but larger and fat- 
t»r. Perigueux (the style of the people of Perigord) 
indicates truffles — bottoms of artichokes in a brown 
sauce. 

Punch — Lucullus — an expensive punch like im 
perial, composed of several kinds of liqueurs and 
fruits and frozen a la Romaine. 

Roti — Prairie hen and leal duck — endive salad 

Ornamental pieces on stands — baskets of fruits 
— almond candy pyramids — a Swiss chalet — Turk- 
ish chapel — views of Lake Minnetonka, done, prob. 
ably, in sugar work — corn d' abondance is the horn 
of plenty, the figure that always appears whenever 
an old-style banquet is set out — the grand piece 
evidently was a representation of the railroad and 



train of cars entering a tunnel. 

Sweets — Tyrolean or Swiss pudding with wine 
custard sauce. Neapolitan ice cream (No. 126) — 
chocolate Bavarian cream (No. 187) — small fancy 
cakes and tarts of various sorts— fruits — cheese — 
coffee. 

Wines — Choice brands. 

The chief excellence of the menu consists in the 
selection of parts only of small birds — of the young 
pigeous only the principal joint of the wing with the 
entire breast, the quail the same but differently 
shaped and cooked, the partridges similarly selected 
meat, and the dish of ortolans was of a higher order 
still — all this because it ma''.es common food expen- 
sive and capable of being shaped, flavored and orna- 
mented until it becomes virtually a new product. 
But the people who dine cannot know of these things 
intuitively and without the necessary information 
they would better enjoy a plainer dinner. 



Thirteenth Day. 

Clam chowder — Bostoyi style. 



Roll of veal stuffed and braised. 

Stewed lamb with tomatoes. 

Salmon patties. 

Charlotte of peaches. 



1251. Clam Chowder— Boston Style. 

2 quarts of clams and their liquor. 

6 quarts of soup stock. 

2 quart panful of raw potatoes cut small. 

2cupfuls of sliced onions. 

2 or three slices of streaky salt pork. 

2 teaspoonfula of powdered thyme and savory. 

1 tablespoonful each of white pepper and salt. 

A little minced parsley for ornament. 
The different articles should be made ready separ- 
ately and placed convenient for use. 

The belly pieces of pork which are cut off the 
roasts and dropped in the pickle keg from day to 
day, are the best for this purpose. Cut up a pound 
into small bits and fry them light brown in the pot 
the soup is to be made in; then pour off the fat. 
Put in the potatoes, onions, stock, clam liquor and 
seasonings, let boil until the potatoes are done, then 
add the clams cut small, and boil up once more. 



The clam soup made with milk, at No. 823, and 
the Coney Island chowder, No. 1208, with the other 
kind above, make the three varieties most desired 
both for hotel and restaurant custom. Tbey are all 
unequivocally good. 

1252. Roll of Veal Stuffed and Braised. 

There is always a surplus on hand of the cut of 
veal marked 9 and on the diagram at No 996, and 



366 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



The clatn soup made with milk, at No. 823, and 
the Coney Island chowder, No. 1208, with the o her 
kind above, make the three varieties most desired 
both for hotel and restaurant custom. They are all 
unequivocally good. 



1252. Roll of Veal Stuffed and Braised. 

There is alwayj a surplus on hand of ihe cut of 
veal marked 9 and on the diagram at No. 990, and 
extending back to the leg. It is useless for roast or 
cutlets, but most excellent meat for entrees. Take 
the whole piece, full length, and make it all alike 
by cutting the bones out of the brisketand the firm- 
est part of the gristle along the ridge, if large veal. 

Make the veal dressing, No. 950. It is not best 
to use much, but rather a thin coating highly sea- 
soned. Lay the veal suet and trimmings of the 
brisket in a saucepan, add an onion and small soup 
bunch, a sage leaf, and a little salt. Roll up the 
breast of veal, tie with twine, put it on top of the 
scraps and set it to cook with only a cupful of stock 
at first, and the lid on. When it has become set 
with cooking add a dipperful of stock and keep it 
simmering with the steam shut in for 2 hours, man- 
aging so that it will be boiled down dry at last. 
Then take up the roll of veal and brown it in one of 
ihe roast meat pans very quickly, not to dry the 
outside into strings. Pour the grease out of the 
saucepan, make gravy of the glaze that adheres to 
the bottom. See that when carved the roll is neat- 
ly sliced across and served with its own seasoned 
gravy. 



1253. Stewed Lamb with Tomatoes. 

4 pounds of breast of lamb. 
1 pint cupful mixed vegetables. 

1 pint of tomaloes. 

2 tablespoonfuls of chopped parsley. 
Salt and pepper. 

Take two of the brisket and flank pieces marked 
7 in the cut at No. 997. Sawacross Ihe bones mak- 
ing them less than two-inoh lengths, divide them, 
two pieces of the ribs to each cut. Wash, stew in 
water enough just to cover, long enough to make 
the meat tender. 

Cut carrots, turnips and onions in squares, and 
boil them in water separately; pour off the water 
when they are half done and put them in the stew, 
and also the tomatoes. Boil half an hour longer, 
thicken slightly if necessary, season, and at last 
throw in Ihe parsley. 

The above makes a very pretty dish. In dishing 
up take up Iwo pieces of the meat for each dish and 
place them square in the middle of an individual 
flat platter, and dish the sauce and vegetables in 
order at each end. 



1254. Salmon Patties. 

Ta'ie cooked fresh salm >n — canned salmon as 
good as any if in large pieces, or boiled salnrnfrom 
a previous day — and some puff paste from Ihe pie- 
making. 

Roll out and cnt about 10 flats like large biscuits 
but thin. Press a shapely piece of salmon down in 
each one, in the middle, and bake the patties of a 
nice color. 

If good paste that will rise with high edges around 
Ihe fish these are sufficiently ornamented without 
any additions when dished up. A Friday dish. 
Not many wanted. 



1255. Charlotte of Peaches. 

See Nos. 352 and 355. A sweet entree comes in 
good place for a Friday dinner, if ever. 



Fourteenth Day. 

Amber clear soup or consomme. 



Stuffed shoulder of mutton. 

Fricassee of veal and mushrooms. 

Parsnip fritters 

Croquettes of sweetbreads. 



1256. Amber Clear Soup or Consomme. 

2J gallons of clear stock. 

1 shank bone of veal. 

1 fowl, or the drumsticks and trimmings. 

1 onion and bunch of soup vegetables. 

2 pounds coarse beef. 
4 whites of eggs. 

Roast the veal and fowl carefully in the oven the 
same as roasting dinner meat, but in a pan by 
themselves, and have a little butter in the pan as 
well as Ihe veal fat, The object is to get a nice 
deep brown color, as well as flavor, to impart to the 
soup, and veal and butter are the best materials for 
the purpose. When brown put the meat into the 
soup pot with the stock and let boil. Pour off the 
grease from the baking pan, dissolve the brown 
glaze with water and put that in the soup, also the 
onion and soup bunch. Boil an hour. Next comes 
the clarifying process. 

Chop a lump of lean beef like sausage meat and 
add the whites of eggs to it,and a pint of cold water. 
Stir to mix. 

Strain'off the soup that you have ready and mix 
the chopped beef and egg with it, then boil it again. 
It is like clearingjelly. The egg comes up on top, 
and when it is all cooked strain the clear soup first 
t v rough a gravy strainer to remove the beef, then 
through a jelly bag or a napkin spread in a col- 
ander. Run it through twice. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



367 



Theforegoiog is the full detailed process of mak- 
ing consomme as flue as can be made, and once it. is 
thoroughly understood all the different varieties 
follow as a matter of course. There are some ad- 
vantages can be taken and substitutions made both 
to make Ihe work easier and to suit the public fancy. 
You find a good many people objecting to the soup, 
which they declare is only like seasoned hot water, 
and you have to add four ounces of starch to give 
an appearance of strength. If boiled slowly after 
the starch is added it becomes just as clear as it was 
before. Then where there is poullry roasted every 
day the cook will reserve a dish of the drumsticks 
and backbones and necks at the carving stand to 
put in his brown stock, but if there is no such 
coloring a little burnt sugar must be used. 

The chopped beef if not absolutely necessary nor 
even the white of eggs — it all depends on whether 
the consomme is wanted to be of the best or only 
ordinary. Season with salt and cayenne before 
sending in. 

In connection with the above read the ariicle 
referring to the many variations of clear soups at 
No. 1175 and the whole subject is covered. 



1257. Stuffed Shoulder of Mutton. 



Take the bones out of two shoulders of mutton at 
thetimethe meats are cut up for breakfast, that 
they may be ready early, It is done by beginning 
at the shank end and cutting close to the blade 
bone Lay some pieces from the thick parts ove 
the thin places. 

Make the bread dressing either at No. 942 or No. 
1000 — one has sweet herbs, the other sage, and both 
are good — and spread it over the meat. Roll up 
the long way of the shoulder; that is, with the 
shank end inside, because it slices much better so 
than if rolled the other way. Tie wilh twine. Put 
the rolled shoulders in to bake in a deep pan the 
same as if roasting turkey; cover with an oiled 
sheet of paper and keep cooking with always a little 
water in the pan, not less than two hours. Take off 
the twine and slice neatly and serve with a little 
gravy made in the pan poured around. See No. 
1062 for this sort of bread sauce. There is no 
trouble whatever in disposing of all the shoulders 
of mutton in this way. They are nearly as good as 
fowls if cooked moist and tender with the stuffing 
seasoned as directed. 



1258. Fricassee of Veal and Mush- 
rooms. 

A fricassee, having a smooth yellow sauce, can- 
not be made right by proceeding as for a common 
stew, because the gravy partioles and scum from the 



meat would fill it full of specks and spoil the ap- 
pearance. 

Take the brisket of veal marked 9 at No. 996. 

1 Blice of salt pork. 

One small onion, or three green ones. 

4 yolks of eggs. 

1 small blade of mace. 

1 pod of red pepper. 

1 lemon. 

1 can of mushrooms. 

Butter and flour and salt. 
Wash the veal aud drop it. in the stock boiler to 
remain about half an hour, then take it up and 
when cool divide it across the ribs into pieces suit- 
able for two to a dish. Draw some clear stock 
through a strainer and put the pieces of veal on in 
iust enough to cover, to simmer for an h' ur. Put 
in also the slice of pork, whole onion and mace, and 
red pepper finely minced and a little salt. When 
the meat is done add a cup of flour thickening (to 
save eggs and be more satisfactory) and when that 
has boiled up beit the yolks with a little milk, pour 
some of the stew to them, then pour all back into 
the saucepan, stir around once and take oft before it 
boils. Finish with a little lemon juice. 

Make the mushrooms into a brown saute in a fry- 
ing pan. Dish up a piece of veal at each end of the 
dish and the sauce poured over them, and a table- 
spoonful of brown mushrooms in the middle. Leaf 
shapes of pastry may be used to lay in the dish for 
ornament. 



1259. Parsnip Fritters. 

1 pint of dry mashed parsnips — 2 cupfuls 
Butter size of an egg. 

2 tablespoonfuls of flour. 
2 eggs. 

1 teaspoonful of pepper. 
Same of salt. 

Stir all together. Have a saucepan 
enough to hiss when a drop of water 
Dip a spoon in and then shape a fritter with it.drop 
in and fry light brown. 

Serve either with gravy or as an accomp\niment 
with some kind of meat. 



of lard hot 
touches it. 



1260. Croquettes of Sweetbreads - 
Toulousaine. 

2 pounds of sweetbreads. 
h can of mushrooms. 
1 cupful of butter. 
Same of flour. 
I cupful of cream. 
Sime of broth or water. 
Grating of nutmeg. 
Juice of half a lemon. 
Eggs and cracker-meal for breading. 
Boil the sweatbreads first in sailed water for 



368 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



time, according to kind — beef sweetbreads may need 
an hour. Cool them, cu 1 in very small dice and the 
mushrooms with them. 

Season with pepper, salt, nutmeg and lemon juice. 
Then make some thick cream sauce of the butler, 
Sour and cream and broth and mix it with the 
minced sweetbreads. Spread the mixture in a pan 
and make it very cold. After that cut out pieces 
roll them in flour, then dip in beaten egg and 
cracker-meal and fry in the wiie basket in hot lard. 
Serve with a sauce in the dish or garnish of green 
peas. 

A cheaper sort can be made by stirring up the 
minced sweetbreads with a cupful of panada and a 
couple of eggs, instead of making a cream sauce to 
set and bind the mixture. 



Fifteenth Day. 

Cream of celery soup. 

Saute of young turkey. 

Veal and oyster pie. 

Calves' brains in brown butter. 

French pancakes with jelly. 



1261. Cream of Celery Soup. 

6 quarts of soup stock. 
2 quarts of milk. 

1 cupful of minced onion. 

Lean boiled ham — a small piece or knuckle 
bone. 

2 or 3 heads of celerv. 

1 cupful of flour and same of butter. 

Cut the outside stalks of celery into very small 
dice and boil them five minutes in water, then drain 
the water away. 

Boil the stock with onions and ham in it; stir the 
butter and flour together in a saucepan and add 
them to Ihe stock. When it has boiled up and 
thickened strain it into another saucepan, add the 
celery and let cook at the side until the celery is 
done — over half an hour. Have the milk hot ready 
and add it at last, along with salt and pepper ard 
a tablespoonful of minced green celery leaf or pars- 
ley, Serve so that the squares of celery will be 
evenly distributed in the plates. 

When the soup is rich it is as well to omit the 
butter and mix the flour with milk, for thickening. 



1262. Saute of Young Turkey. 

Very small and tender turkeys are more service, 
fable cooked this way than roasted, and it is a pleas- 
ant variation from the regular routine. Cut them 
up in joints and dust them with flour, salt and pep- 
per. Put some freBh roust meat fat in the largest 



rying pan, and when it is melted lay in the pieces 
and cook them brown without burning. To insure 
the drumsticks and sections of the breast being well 
done keep the pan covered with a lid part of the 
time, but the goodness of anything cooked this way 
depends upon its being cooked quickly and without 
drying the meat. Then take up the pieces, stir a 
spoonful of flour around in the pan, add a pint of 
water, pepper and salt, boil up, and strain the 
gravy thus made over the pieces of turkey. 



1263. Veal and Oyster Pie. 



4 pounds of small pieces of veal. 
1 quart of oysters. 
1 quart of milk. 
1 small onion. 

1 pint of Parisienne potatoes. 

2 tablespoonfuls of minced parsley. 
4 pounds of pie paste. 

Pepper, salt and thickening. 

All the pieces of raw veal that will not make either 
roasts or cutlets are suitable for this — the neck, 
flank or brisket. Cut all to one size and steep in 
cold water some time before wanted. 

Two hours before dinner set the veal on to boil 
with water enough nearly to cover, draw the oyster 
liquor by pouring hot water over through a colan- 
der, add that to the veal and carefully skim when 
it comes to a boil. Let cook an hour, add the milk, 
thicken and season it. Turn the stew into a baking 
pan, drop in the potato ba'ls, the oysters spread 
over the top, and sprinkle with parsley. Cover 
with a pie crust and bak e half an hour. 



1264. Calves' Brains in Brown Butter. 

Take six sets of brains, or about twelve lobes, 
which, being split, may be expected to make 20 
orders; drop them into a saucepan of water in 
which there is salt and a little vinegar, and let 
slowly boil about 20 minutes. Pour all into a col- 
ander, letting the liquor run away. When the 
hrains are cold remove all the dark streaks and skin . 
It is best to have them in a pan of cold water for 
this purpose. Slice each lobe in two, lay them out 
on a board, dredge with salt and pepper, roll bo'h 
sides in flour and keep them ready until dishing up 
time. Then set a baking pan on top of the range 
with two-thirds fat from the roast meat pans and 
one-third butter, lay the brains in and brown them 
on both sides. Have some olives ready in a siuc r 
and quarters of lemons in another. Serve the 
brains hot out of the pan with the froth ofbu'trr 
upon them, with olives and lemon in the same disb. 



1265. French Pancakes with Jelly. 
See directions at No. 259. 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



3(59 



Pattern menu for asociable affair where the 
party in a contest pays fur the supper. 

COMPLIMENTS OF THE LOSING SIDE, 

WITH A BKLIEF IN A HEREAFTER. 



SCHNITGER, - Referee. 
54 50 



'•To the Victors belong the Spoils." 
MENU. 



Raw 



OYSTERS. 

Fried 



Stewed 



Boiled Fresh California Salmon 1 Saratoga 

Mouniain Brook Trout / Potatt es 



Roast Turkey, Cranberry Sauce 

Quail on Toast 

Tenderloin Steak, with Mushrooms 

Veal Cutlets, Breaded, with French Peas 

Broiled Young Sage Chicken, with Jelly 



Mashed Potatoes 

Fresh California Cauliflower 

Hubbard Squash 



Shrimp Salad 



Celery 



Assorted Cake Pineapple Ice 



Fruit Cheese Nuts Raisins Coffee 

Thornbcrqh House, M. M. Towne, Prop'r. 
Laramie City, Wyo., Dec. 18, 1883. 



Sixteenth Day. 

Tomato gumbo soup. 



Breaded brisket of lamb. 

Stewed pig' s head, Russian sauce. 

Spaghetti in cream. 

Spanish puff fritters. 

1266. Tomato Gumbo Soup. 

8 quarts of soup stock. 

1 quart or can of tomatoes. 

2 cupfuls of minced vegetables. 
12 cloves. 

2 quart pan of sliced okra. 

1 or 2 pods of red pepper minced. 

8 spoonfuls flour and water thickening. 



Set the stock on the fire an hour before dinner. 
Chop the tomatoes with the edge of a spoon into 
small pieces; let half the minced vegetables be 
onions; put everything in and let boil gently. Add 
thickening and salt at last. 



1267. Breaded Brisket of Lamb. 



Saw the briskets of lamb or mutton across so that 
the bones will be about two iuches long. Drop the 
pieces in the stock boiler early nnd let them cook 
until very tender. Take out and press flat between 
two pans. When cold cut in convenient pieces, 
wilhout removing the bones. Pepper and salt 
plentifully and then double bread them and fry in 
hot fat. 

This is a good dish if properly managed, but does 
not look well unless breaded twice. The first coat- 
ing may be done without using eggs, as at No. 1235. 
May be served with any vegetable border or tomato 
or cream sauce. 



1268. Stewed Pig's Hoad, Russian Sauce. 

There is no satisfaction in trying to use very fat 
meat this way. Take the head of a small porker, 
saw it in two, steep in cold water an hour or two, 
wash it. cut out the ear, trim off all discolored por. 
tions carefully, put it in the salt meat boiler to cook 
about two hours. Then take it up and remove the 
bones. 

Put into a saucepan 

1 pint of strained soup stock. 

1 onion cut across into small bits. 

1 green pickle same way. 

1 pod of red pepper. Butter size of an egg. 

2 tablespoonfuls of dry mustard. 

But notall at once, for the onion should stew awhile, 
then the butter and dry mustard be mixed together 
in a pan and stirred up with the onion sauce. Add 
salt. It makes a light yellow sauce, rather thick, 
with onions, pickles and red pepper in it. Putin 
the pig's head and slice it out as wanted. 



1269. Spaghetti in Cream. 

Spaghetti and macaroni can both be cooked the 
same waysjthey are alike except in ehape. Break up 
into finger lengths.boil in salted water about 20 min- 
utes, drain away the water and put the spaghetti 
into a saucepan of rich cream sauce. It comes 
handy to prepare it so at times when there is no 
cheese within reach. At other times add chopped 
cheese and a sprinkling of parsley to it. 



370 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



1269 a. Spanish Puff Fritters. 

For all varieties of pufl fritters see No. 275 Am. 
Pastet Cook 



PATTERN MENU FOR PRIVATE PARTY. 

MENU. 
Huitres en coquilles 

Chateau Yquem 
Consomme en tasse 

Old Amontillado 
Cassolettes au ealpicon 
Saumon au gratin, sauce Genoise 

La Rose 
Filet de boeuf, roti au Madere 
Petita~Poii Epinarda 

Mumm's Ex Dry 

Supreme de perdreaux aux truffes 

Aapergea 

Sorbet au kirscb 

Cailles roties 

Salade Chambertin 

Pouding Nesselrode Meringues panacbee 

Qelee au Marasquin Gateau assortie 

Fruits Roquefort 
Dessert 
Cafe noir 
Matteson House, Chicago, Munger Bros., Proprie- 
tors; E. A. Smith, Steward. 
Jan. 4, 1884. 



set the milk to gradually come to a boil at ihe side 
of the range, with the ham bone and onions in it, 
and minced red pepper. 

Take adipperful of good mealy potatoes out of the 
steamer and mash them, and mix the milk with 
them. Then strain tbe puree into the soup and 
when it boils up add sufficient thickening to make 
it like cream and to prevent the potato from settling 
to the bottom. Sprinkle parsley on top in the 
tureen. 



Seventeenth Day. 



Potato cream soup. 



Baked apareribs, Robert aauce. 

Corned lamba' tonguea with brocoli. 

Pattiea of calvee' braina. 



1270. Potato Oream Soup. 

The French call potato soup Potage Parmentier 
after the man who first brought potatoes into France. 
Some of the Saratoga bills of fare have it "Jackson 
soup," but why we know not. 

6 quarts of soup stock, 

2 quarts of milk. 

8 large potatoes. 

8 spoonfuls flour thickening. 

1 cupful minced onion. 

1 knuckle bone of boiled ham. 
Salt and white or red pepper. 

2 tablespoonfuls minced parsley. 

Strain the stock into the soup pot and boil it, and 



1271. Baked Spareribs, Robert Sauce. 

Divide spareribs into cuts of convenient size for 
one to each dish. Sawing is much neater than 
hacking, and leaves no splinters. Place in a bak- 
ing pan, Bprinkle with salt, pepper and powdered 
sage and bake in a very hot oven to imitate broiling 
in getting a quick brown without drying out. Serve 
with the sauce No. 908, in the dish. 



1272. Corned Lambs' Tongues with 
Brocoli. 

Take the tongues out of the pickle keg on the 
preceding day and boil with the salt meals. They 
take two or three hours to cook tender. When cold 
pare off all the white outside skin and split length- 
wise in two. 

Having the halves ready in a dish when the roast 
meat is done, after taking it out fry the tongues in 
the fat and glaze in the baking pan for about five 
minutes, then take them out slightly browned and 
glazed, and keep hot. 

Brocoli is a kind of cabbage, entirely green, has 
the cauliflower flavor. Cook it the same as cabbage, 
an hour or more. Drain, add salt, pepper and a 
little roast meat fat and chop fine in the pan. Serve 
a spoonful in the dish and the lamb's tongue pushed 
down in the centre. 



1273. Patties of Calves' Brains. 

Set on a large frying pan with butter in it size of 
an egg, put in a pint of brains, dredge in salt and 
pepper and a teaspoonful of powdered sige. Scram- 
ble the brains in the pan same way as eggs. They 
ivill be done in about 10 minutes. 

Prapare 12 vol-au-vent patty cases of puff paste> 
fill with scrambled brains, put on the lids, orna- 
ment with chopped yolks and parsley or a slice of 
lemon. 



Something Practical for a Cold Supper. 

A hotel keeper wrote from a railroad hotel where, 
perhaps, they do not run a printed bill of fare regu- 
larly, asking suggestions as to what sort of a bill he 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



371 



should provide for an anniversary supper and suit 
able dishes for it. Said he, "We shall have no hot 
dishes but oysters. We have looked through your 
books and find nothing suitable; they all have too 
many hot dishes." 

About a month previous another hotel keeper had 
written the very same thing. 

In reply to the earlier inquiry I had given it as 
my experience that after the most elaborate pre 
parations of strange dishes with strange names have 
been made, the things which the company are un- 
animous in choosing and which it is important to 
have plenty of and to have waiters to supply them 
fast enough are very few. First of these is fried 
oysters — well fried, and garnished with lemons — 
then oysters in the other forms, cold roast turkey 
and chicken, chicken salad, ice cream, cakes and 
pastry and coffee. These do not make much of a 
show on a bill of fare and it is provoking to those 
who want to show the resources of the kitchen to 
find at least 150 out of 200 persons calling for fried 
oysters and disappointed if they are not abundant 
and making still heavier drafts on the coffee and 
cream when there is so much else that we think 
they ought to like better. I went on and suggested 
other good dishes both for use and appearance' sake 
and named about the proportions likely to be wauled 
of each. The supper for about 200 came off and 
apparently was satisfactory for it was much praised 
But the fried oysters were not there. Probably the 
hotel keeper was afraid to undertake the task, as I 
had intimated that it would take 12 or 15 waiters 
to supply fried oysters and coffee within the short 
limit of patience of his guests. But there were 
oysters stewed, scalloped and raw, and other dishes 
such as those in the bill below, and beonuse these 
made but a small show of words a considerable 
space was filled up enumerating relishes which were 
thus made the heaviest appearing part of the sup 
per. There is some sort of a difficulty in these 
matters not to be obviated on a first attempt. In 
responding to the second inquiry, I enclosed the 
first bill of fare, repeating in part what had been 
said to the other party; crossed out some things and 
suggested others, and the hotel keeper produced the 
following menu, which, under the circumstances as 
stated, must be regarded as an excellent pattern for 
other affairs of the kind. The letter inclosing the 
copy from which this is printed, is as follows: 

"I also enclose our menu for banquet given last 
evening, which we made up from suggestions made 
by you, from what all said it was a complete suc- 
cess. Had about 140. Please accept thanks for 
your kindness. 

Yours truly, 



Ball Supper. 

MENU. 

OYSTERS. 

Eaw Fried Scalloped 

COLD. 

Roast Turkey Tongue 

Boneless Turkey in Aspic Jelly 

Ham Sandwiches Tea Biscuit 

Lobster Salad Chicken Salad 

Celery 

Strawberry Jelly Lemon Jelly 

Pineapple Jelly with Whipped Cream 
Charlotte Russe Vanilla Ice Cream 

Fancy Cakes Lemon Tartlets 

Knight Templar's Food 

Neapolitan Cake Chocolate Cake 

Fruit Cake 

Swiss Cream Cheese Edam Cheese 

Oranges Bananas Grapes 

Almonds and Raisins 



Tea 



Coffee 



Eighteenth Day. 

Andalusian soup. 



Corned pork tenderloins in border. 

Veal pot pie, country style. 

Onions stuffed and baked. 

Queen fritters, custard sauce. 

1274. Andalusian Soup. 

It is a strong brown soup with tomatoes. 

7 quarts of soup stock. 

1 quart or a can of tomatoes. 

4 cloves of garlic. 

I cupful of minced onion. 

Same of mixed vegetables — carrot, turnip 
elery. 

4 cupfuls of browned flour. 
Throw a spoonful of butter and same of sugar in 
the saucepan of tomatoes and let simmer down rich 
at the side of the range. Boil the Btock with vege- 
cables in it, add browned flour or butter and flnur 
and then the tomatoes. Strain through a fine 
strainer; let boil again slowly and skim from the 
side until the soup looks bright and smooth. Add 
cayenne and salt. 



1275. Corned Pork Tenderloins 
Border. 



One of the prettiest borders for small entrees is 
finely shred Julien vegetables of mixed colors boiled 
done in salted water, then drained into a little 
saucepan of cream sauce, or brown or yellow sauce 



372 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



for variety. They must be neatly cut in one-inch 
lengths. Dishes so bordered would be called a la 
Nivernaise, in French, for no reason but because a 
part of France called Nivernon used to raise the 
best carrots and turnips and euch, as our Michigan 
yields the best po'atoes, Such a garnish costs 
little besides the time. Having prepared the vege- 
tables take pork tenderloins that have been in the 
pickle about three days, boil an hour, split, and 
brown them quickly in a roast meat pan and dish 
up with a spoonful of the vegetables plaoed first as 
a border. 



1276. Veal Pot Pie, Country Style 

3 pounds of neck of veal. 
1 pint of milk. 

1 small onion and slice of salt pork. 

White pepper and salt, and flour thickening. 

Baking powder paste. 
Stew the meat an hour in water just enough to 
cover and with the seasoniog articles in it, then add 
the milk and thicken it to the consistency of cream. 
Put the stew in a deep pan that will go in the oven. 
Then mix up 

4 cupfuls of flour. 

3 large teaspoonfuls of baking powder. 
1 coffee cupful of water. Salt, 
The dough should be a little too soft to handle. 
Stir it well together with a etout spoon and drop 
portions close enough to touch all over the top of 
the stew. Bake about 20 minutes. 



1277. Onions Stuned and Baked. 

6 or 8 large onions. 

J cupful of sausage meat. 

£ cupful of bread crumbs. 

1 egg. 

1 cupful of brown sauce. 

Pepper and salt. 
Peel the onions and boil them in water 10 min- 
utes; both to extract some of the strong taste and 
to make the inside easy to remove.~Then drain 
them and push out about half the insides; chop 
these and mix with them the sausage meat, and 
bread crumbs, and egg, and a good pinch of black 
pepper, and little salt. Stuff the onions with the 
mixture and heap it a little on top to use up the 
surplus. Place them in a deep pan that will go in 
your steamer and let steam about an hour and a 
s alf. Then brown them off in the oven with the cup 
of gravy poured in the pan. 

When not convenient to steam they can be sim- 
mered in gravy in the oven if kept covered with a 
greased sheet of paper. Any kind of minced cold 
meat, or part raw and part cooked without an egg, 



can be made into a savory side dish in the above 
manner. 

1277 a. Queen Fritters, Custard Sauce. 

For all varieties of puff fritters and all sorts of 
sweet entrees see No. 274 Am. Pastky Cook. 



Regular Breakfast Bill of Fare of a summer re- 
sort. Hotel ra'es, $4 and $5 a day. 

HOTEL KAATERSKILL 

BREAKFAST. 



Coffee Chocolate Oolong and English Breakfast Tea 
Cocoa Shells 



Irish Oat Meal Hominy Grits Cracked Wheat 



Broiled Salt Mackerel Codfish, with Cream 

Broiled Burlington Herring Fried Pan Fish 
Fish Cakes Broiled Fresh Mackerel 
Broiled Smoked Salmon Broiled Fresh Salmon 

BROILED. 

Sirloin Steak Veal Cutlets Calf's Liver and Bacon 

Ham Breakfast Bacon Mutton Chops 

Tripe Lamb Chops 



Ham and Eggs Clam Fritters 

Veal Chops — plain orjbreaded Breakfast Bacon 

Liver and Bacon Beefsteak, with Onions 

Fried Hominy or Mush 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

Corned Beef Hash Frizzled Beef in Cream 

Stewed Mutton Kidneys Stewed Clams 

Stewed Tripe 



Omelettes— Plain or with Parsley, Onions, Tomatoes, 

Ham, Kidneys or Spanish 

Boiled Fried Scrambled Poached 



Saratoga Chips 
Fried 



Baked Stewed 

Lyonaise Saute 



BREAD 



French and Graham Bread Plain Bread 

Kaaterskill Flannel Rolls Graham Muffins 

Corn Muffins Potato Bread 

French Rolls Saratoga Rolls Toast 

Kaaterskill Flannel Cakes, with Maple Syrup 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



373 



Nineteenth Day. 

Scotch mutton broth. 



Breaded calj's head, tomato sauce. 

Beef stew withpotatoes. 
Minced Turkey with poached (figs. 



1278. Scotch Mutton Broth. 

8 quarts of mutton broth or stock. 

8 tablespoonfuls of pearl barley. 

1 piot of lean boiled mutton cut in dice. 

Same of mixed vegetables, mostly turnips. 

A bunch of parsley. Pepper and salt. 
Wash the barley and put it on in plenty of water, 
let boil about two hours, then wash the blue-looking 
liquor away from it and keep it ready. 

It can easily be managed to have this kind o 
soup when there is a surplus of lamb and mutton to 
be boiled and used. Cut the carrot, turnip, onion 
and celery in email dice, cook them in the broth and 
add the barley , meat, and chopped parsley at last. It 
should be but very slightly thickened if at all. 



1279. 



Breaded Calfs Head, Tomato 
Sauce. 



Saw the head in two, beginning at the crown, and 
take out the brains and tongue. Steep in a pan of 
cod water an hour or two, then drop it in the stock 
boiler and cook until the skin is tender enough to 
be cut with the point of a spoon. Some take but an 
hour, others two hours. Take it up and set away 
to become quite cold. After that take out the 
bines and cut the meat in pieces of suitable size for 
one to each dish. Dredge with salt and pepper, 
roll in flour, dip in egg and then in cracker meal 
and fry in hot fat. It is necessary to be particular 
to flour and coat the pieces well. The gelatinous 
oalfs head looks only like a lump of grease if not 
perfectly breaded and then well drained. 

Serve with good tomato sauce well stewed down 
in the dish, but not poured over the meat. The 
brains scrambled with eggs may serve for patties. 
The tongue either to cut up in soup or used as boiled 
tongue, or in a stew. 

1280. Beef Stew with Potatoes. 

2 pounds of pieces of beef. 

8 potatoes. 

1 onion. Salt and pepper. 
Let the meat be one-fourth fat. The flank pieces 
that come off the ends of porter house steaks make 
the best stew. Having the pieces cut all to one size 
put them on with water enough just to cover and 
let stew slowly for two hours. Put in the onion cut 
small and potatoes whole; cook till done, add sea 
soning and thickening of flour and keep simmering 
at the side of the range until wanted. 



1281. Minced 



Turkey with Poached 
Eggs. 



3 pounds of cooked turkey meat. 

1 quart of cream sauce. 

A poached egg for each dish — 18 or 20. 
Read about cutting and carving fowls at No.1015. 
Cut the meat neatly into small dice. Make the 
white sauce as rich as supreme sauce, if wished, and 
put the cut meat into it. Dish a spoonful in the in 
dividual dish, press a hollow in the top and place a 
soft poached egg well drained from water. 



HOTEL KAATERSKILL. 

SUPPEB. 



Tea 



FRUIT OR PRESERVES. 

Coffee Chocolate 



FISB. 

Burlington Herring Fried Fresh Fish 



BROILED. 

Beef Steak 
Mutton Chops 
Ham 
Lamb Chops 

Deviled Kidney 



COLD MEATS 

Roast Beef 

Chicken 

Ham 

Beef Tongue 

Boned Capon 



Spiced Mackerel. Sardines, Pickled Lamb Tongue 



Fried Scrambled 

POTATOES. 

Lyonaise Saute 



Plain Omelettes 



Fried Lyonaise Saute Saratoga 

Hashed Potatoes, with cream or browned 

BREAD. 

Corn Mush and Milk Oat Meal and Vanilla Wafers 

Toast Tea Biscuit Cream and Soda Crackers 

Kaaterskill Flannel Cakes, with Maple Syrup. 

Twentieth Day. 

Fish mulligatawney soup. 



Larded calf's liver, crisped onions. 

Blanquette of lamb, Parisian style. 

Fish fondue. 

Turkey patties. 



1282. Fish Mulligatawney Soup. 

6 quarts of fish stock. 

1 quirt panful of pieces of fish. 

6 or 8 green onions. 

Butter size of an egg. 

4 tablespoonfuls of curry powder. 

1 pod of red pepper. 

2 oupfuls of browned flour, 
l'large lemon. Salt. 
Some dry boiled rice. 

If for a Lenten soup boil a large fish in water 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



with herb seasonings in it,. as mentioned at Nos.920 
and 930. This gives you a good fish soup already 
half made. Some kind of firm fish that the meat 
will part in flakes, like snapper, carp or salmon, 
should be chosen. Pick it apart free from skin, fat 
or bones. Put the butter in a saucepan, slice the 
onions into it, with a little of the green tops. 

Simmer until they are nearly dry and beginning 
to fry, then fill up with fish stock. Mix the curry 
powder and brown flour together, stir up with stock 
and add them for thickening. Let boil up, then 
strain into the soup pot, put in the fish, simmer at 
the side of the range and skim frequently, as the 
fat and skum rises at the side. Add lemon juice in 
the tureen. Serve a spoonful of boiled rice in the 
plates as well as the flakes offish that are in the soup. 



1283. Larded 



Calf's Liver, Crisped 
Onions. 



It should be borne in mind that, however it may 
seem to be disguised by the various names which 
the cooks have been proud to bestow upon its differ- 
ent forms, liver and bacon has always been a fa- 
vorite dish. The decided flavor has been employed 
in numerous ways to give life to other dishes that, 
if perhaps more delicate, still seem decidedly tame 
to palates that are sated with good things. Such 
zests as the liver forcemeat for spreading on the 
inside of boned quails and around the walls of a 
truffled cold pie, and such is pale de foie gras, im- 
ported in jars. Bacon is the natural concomitant; 
liver and bacon always go together. The liver 
flavor being universally approved there is only a 
question of kind. Goose liver ranks best and calf 
liver next. This kind is therefore scarce and dear 
in the cities, being always in g>-eat demand at the 
restaurants. Beef liver is next best and most gen- 
erally available. Sheep liver is hard and not fit to 
use at all. For this entree take 
4 pounds of calf s liver. 

1 pound of fat bacon. 
Spiced salt and pepper. 

2 quart panful of sliced onions for border. 
Cut the bacon in strips size of a common pencil; 

roll them in mixed spices or aromatic salt, draw 
Ihem into the liver with a larding needle in such a 
direction that they will be sliced across when the 
liver is served. 

Put the remaining scraps of baoon in a saucepan, 
the liver on top, a cupful of stock (and half as much 
sherry if you use it) and set it on to cook with a 
lid on. When Ihe liquid is all boiled away as the 
bacon fries and browns turn the liver over to get a 
light brown on both sides. Then take it out, pour 
the grease out of the saucepan and make a thick- 



ened gravy of the glaze that remains, adding a sea- 
soning of pepper, and strain it off. 

To crisp the [onions for a border to the dishes 
needs great care; slice them all to one thickness and 
fry them light yellow without blackening any, in a 
saucepan of hot fat precisely like frying Saratoga 
chips. The onions, of course, separate in rings. 
Put in a few at a time. They take but three min- 
uses to cook. Drain in a colander. Place them 
with a fork in the dieh, some gravy underneath and 
slice of larded liver in the midst. 



1284. 



Blanquette of Lamb, Parisian 
Style. ■ 



Cook the breast of lamb whole (or any other part 
that may be to spare for this dish) by boiling in sea- 
soned stock, then press it between two pans until 
cold and after that cut it in pieces suitable for the 
individual dishes. 

Boil down the liquor the meat was cooked in 
until it is very rich; strain it through a fine seive, 
boil it again and thicken it, then thin it down with 
cream, making a while sauce of it, like supreme. 

Prepare potatoes as directed at No. 953, stewing 
them in buiter (which may afterwards be used for 
other purposes) because in water Ihey would be 
sure to break and be useless. Sprinkle them with 
chopped parsley, but they should not be browned 
for this dish. 

Make the pieces of lamb hot again in some sea- 
soned broih. Dish up one or two pieces in a dish, 
cover with a spoonful of the white sauce and place 
a border of the potato boulettes around, 



1285. Fish Fondue. 



A fine dish for Lent and for Fridays. Take a 
boiled fish of a firm-fleshed sort — haddock, cod, pike, 
salmon, halibut, buffalo or carp — and when cold 
pick Ihe meat from the bones in flakes or strips. 
After that proceed precisely the same as for maca- 
roni and cheese, using the fish in place of macaroni. 
See No. 1241. 



1286. Turkey Patties. 



Prepare minced turkey as at No. 1281 for turkey 
with poached eggs. Bake oval shaped flats of pufl 
paste; split them; dish a spoonful of mince on Ihe 
bottom crust, put the top crust upon it and garnish 
with a sprig of parsley. 



THE AMERICAN OOOX. 



375 



Special Breakfast Bill of Fare at a 4-dollar-a-day 
hotel. 

BREAKFAST. 



CHRISTMAS, 1883. 
FRUITS IN SEASON. 

Stewed Oysters Fried Oysters Broiled Oysters 

Cracied Wheat Oatmeal 

Chocolate Black and Green Tea Coffee 

BROILED FISH 

Mutton Chops Ham Bacon Liver Tripe Veal Cutlets 

Broiled Beefsteak, Plain, with Mushrooms, Onions 
or Tomato Sauce 

Broiled Pigs' Feet Pork Chops 

Pork Spareribs 

FRIED CHICKEN. 



Sausage 



Boiled, Poached, Fried, Shirred, Scrambled, Omelettes 



Lyonnaise 



POTATOES. 

Baked Fried 

Stewed in Cream 



Saratoga 



Graham Bread Hot Rolls Plain White Bread 
Buckwheat Cakes Corn Muffins 



Luncheon, 1 to 2:30 p.m. 



Dinner, 6 to 8 p.m. 



Twenty-first Day. 

French cream soup. 



Young pigeon pie. 

Saute of lambs' hearts — Toulousaine. 

Artichokes in gravy. 

Curry of veal with rice. 

Orange fritters, port wine sauce. 

1287. French Cream Soup. 

This soup can be made equally as good as potage 
a la reine, which it closely resembles. Make the 
stoek rich with plenty of veal necks and shanks or 
oalf s head and feet. Tako 

5 quarts of veal stock, 

3 quarts of milk. 

1 head of celery. 

1 cupful of minced onion. 

A bunch of parsley. 

1 large slice of ham. 

1 cupful of butter. 
2cupfuls of flour. 

2 tablespoonfuls of tapioca. 
Blade of mace, cayenne, salt. 

Set the stock on to boil and put in the celery, 
onion, parsley and mace. 

Melt the butter in a frying pan, put in the ham 
and let it cook in the butter at the side of the range 
until it stops simmering and begins to fry, then stir 



the flour into it and let cook together, set just in- 
side the oven, until it begins to show light yellow. 
This gives a good flavor, but there must be no 
brown color. Then put it in the soup, taking care 
it does not go in a mass to the bottom and burn. 
When it has boiled a short time and became thick 
add the milk, which should be hot, and strain the 
soup into the regular soup pot. Crush some tapio- 
ca, take two heaping tablespoonfuls and put in the 
soup and continue the cooking about half an hour 
longer. Season to taste. 



It is a rule of the kitchen that the oook who makes 
'he soupjcannot salt and pepper it by the taste, but 
he adds what he knows must be an insufficient quan- 
tity of those articles and allows some other person 
fresh from the) open air to be the iudge. Most 
cooks by the time they have prepared an elaborate 
dinner can hardly de'ect a salt taste in the brine 
from a salt beef barrel, and cayenne makes no more 
impression on their palate than sugar or starch. 
The effect of the heat and fumes of the cookery. 



1288. Young Pigeon Pie. 

As old pigeons are hardly fit to be eaten at all, 
and at any latemust be cooked three or four hours, 
it is necessary to designate these used either young 
pigeons or "squabs." 

2 dozen young pigeons. 
1 pound of butter. 

3 quarts of broth or water. 
Flour thickening, pepper, salt. 

4 pounds of pie paste. 

The squabs can be picked dry, but a'little easier 
if scalded. Singe and draw, splitting them down 
the bock first, like broiling chickens, and then cut 
in halves. Waph and dry them, flatten a little with 
the side of the cleaver, pepper and salt and flour on 
both sides, then fry them slightly in the butter 
melted in the same baking pan the pie is to be made 
in. 

When the squabs have acquired alight brown on 
both sides pour into the pan about 3 quarts of broth 
or water and set in in the stove that'theymny stew 
tender while you make the crust. See whether the 
flour on the birds has thickened the liquor suffici- 
ently, and add salt and pepper. Cover with a thin 
sheet of short pie paste the same as directed for 
chicken pie at No. 1193, or with common puff paste 
if preferred. The difference between this kind of 
pie and the chicken pie referred to is in the pigeons 
being in a brown butter gravy instead of a stew. 
Guinea fowls, young chickens, quail and similai 
kinks can be made into pies the same way, with no 
seasonings, but brown butter and flour, pepper and 
salt, and they are among the dishes which nearly 
everybody calls for. 



When the crust of your meat pie of any kind 



THE AMERICAN COOK. 



"gives out," as is often the case when it is good,roll 
out a sheet of paste thin, lay it on a baking pai and 
mark squares, if there is time, by running a piste 
jagger over and across it. Bake it in ten minutes. 
Lay the squares on top of the remainder of the pin 
of pie. 



1289. 



Saute of Lambs' Hearts— 
Toulousaine. 



To slice and cut the lambs' hearts in a large fry- 
ing pan like any other saute is only a short opera- 
tion, to be performed shortly before dinner. But 
to give the dish the style named commence some- 
what earlier and make a forcemeat the same as if 
for stuffed oniona (No. 1277) and add a little garlic 
to it. Make it up in small balls, about as large as 
walnuts, roll them in flour and bike them in a pan 
containing a little roast meat fat until they have a 
light brown color. 

Serve two slices or half a heart with the saute 
gravy upon it and two or three or four of the 
baked forcemeat bills placed around, and two or 
three olives that have been made hot in a little 
brown sauce. 

1290. Artichokes in Gravy. 

Let the artichokes lie in a pan of cold water, the 
sameas is the rule for cauliflower, spinach, etc., an 
hour or two before they are to be cooked. Wash 
well, and if the tips of the leaves are discolored, 
clip them; cut the artichokes in two and remove the 
stringy core. Have the water ready boiling, put in 
a teaspoonful of salt and baking soda the size of a 
bean, boil the artichokes about J hour or until the 
soft end of the leaf when pulled out proves to be 
tender. Drain and serve like cauliflower, 2 pieces 
in a dish, set upright, and roast beef gravy or brown 
sauce poured around but not all over them. 



1291. Curry of Veal with Rice. 

1 pound of veal, 

2 tablespoonfuls of minced onion. 
Same of grated cocoanut. 

1 tablespoonful of curry powder. 
Same of flour. 
1 pint of broth. 

Salt, cayenne, juice of half a lemon. 
A quart of boiled rioe. 
Put the meat, cut in pieces, in a saucepan with a 
little fat or butter and the onion and let fry together 



a few minutes to acquire a light color but not brown. 

Dredge in the curry powder, cocoanut and flour 
and stir until all are well ming'ed, then add broth 
or WBter, and milk of a cocoanut if at hand, cover 
and let stew slowly for an hour. Salt and small 
pinch of cayenne to be added at last, and the fat 
carefully skimmed off. 

Cook rice specially for it, in loose, dry, distinct 
grains, slightly seasoned with salt and butter drop- 
ped on top to mix while cooking without stirring. 
Dish a light heap of rice at one end of the dish, and 
the curry in the remaining space. 



1292. Orange Fritters with Port "Wine. 

Divide the oranges in sections by the natural di- 
visions, removing the white pith and seeds, and drop 
them in a pan of hot syrup; out of that with a fork 
into a pan of flour and coat them with it, then into 
fritter batter (No. 1202) and fry in lard or oil, same 
a* apple or peach fritters. Sauce No. 478 or 490. 



Regular Breakfast Bill of Fare of a good 2-dollar- 
a-day hotel in the interior. 

BREAKFAST. 



Mocha Coffee 
Cream 



Tea Milk 

Chocolate 



BROILED. 

Chicken Tenderloin Steak Lamb Chops Ham 
Breakfast Bacon Mackerel 

FRIED. 

Sausage Oysters Cod Fish Balls 

COLD MEATS. 

Ham Corned Beef Chicken 

EGGS. 

Fried Poached Omelet Boiled 

Scrambled Shirred 

POTATOES. 

Baked Sweet Potatoes Baked Potatoes 

Stewed Potatoes Corn Beef Hash 

BREAD. 

White Graham French Ro'ls Dry Toast 

Buckwheat Cakes 
Milk Toast Steamed Brown Bread Oat Meal 



J3SS2: 




00ft'» JlOTJJ §0flL 



BLAI2K PAGES FOf^ WRITII2G ^EGIPES UPON. 



SCRAPS ABOUT EDIBLES. 



A Typical American Dish. 



The American edible clam of the Atlantic seaboard 
is not much larger than our scallop or scollop. 
Raw, it does duty for the oyster ' au naturel;" and 
in this simple condition it was likewise devoured 
by the Romans, vinegar being sometimes replaced 
hy oxymel. When clams were eaten cooked, the 
disciples of Apicius and Lucullus placed the mol- 
luscs in a new stewpan with a little oil, sweet wine, 
and pepper. The coction was completed over a 
slow fire, and before serving much more pepper was 
added to the stew. Mrs. Hales — the Miss Acton 
of the United States — gives minute directions for 
frying, stewing, and steaming both hard and soft 
shell-clams, and for making clam-fritters; but, oddly 
enough, she omits any mention of clam-chowder. 
The observant M. Urbain Dubois, however, in his 
"Cosmopolitan Cookery," gives a sufficiently lucid 
"apercu" of clam-chowder; only he treats it as a 
"potage." "Clam-chowder soup," the German 
Kaiser's chef tell us, is made from the chopped flesh 
of clams placed in a well-buttered stewpan, and 
"accommodated" with onions blanched and minced, 
and a bunch of aromatics, salt, pepper, nutmeg, 
cayenue, and mace, the whole moistened with a 
sufficiency of wine and fish-broth. Prior to serving 
the soup is to be thickened with a handful of bruised 
"crackers," and fortified — for a mess of five dozen 
clams - with a bottle of Rhine wine. This is nearly, 
but not quite, the genuine article. M. Dubois has 
omitted an integral component of chowder, the pork. 
To find the "norma," or original basis, of chowder, 
we must go back to the venerable Mrs. Hannah 
Glasse, in whose culinary "Novum Organum," and 
under the heading of "A Cheshire Pork Pye for 
Sea," to which she specially directs the attention 
of master-mariners, there will be found the real 
foundation of chowder. "Take," says Hannah, 
some salt pork which has been boiled; cut it into 
thin B.ices; an equal quantity of potatoes, pared, 
and cut thin; lay a layer of pork seasoned with 
pepper, and a layer of potatoes; then another layer 
of pork, and so on till your pye is full. Then add 
more pepper, lay some butter on the top, and fill 
your dish about half-full of soft water. Cover up 
close, and bake it in a gentle oven. 

This is veritable chowder, and in the British navy 
was, during many generations, extensively patron- 
ized by our gallant tars, by whom it was kuown as 
"sea-pie," and sometimes as "lobscouse." On the 
shores of New England, however, it was popular- 
ized as "chowder," and with the addition of the 
sand-clams, which were so amazingly popular, it 
became "clam-chowder." 



tracting attention. When railroad facilities are 
completed there is no reason why the northwestern 
section of the United States should not receive their 
oysters from this source. The gathering of oysters 
has been so far carried on by Indians, but lately 
white men have engaged in the business, and trans- 
planting has taken place to the advantage of the 
oyster. Of late some very wonderful beds of oysters 
are described as being of unusual size, and though 
more meaty than those of the Atlantic coast, quite 
as well flavored. 



The oyster beds of Puget Sound are just now at- 



A publication announces that there are daily eaten 
in London some thousands of the hind-quarters of 
frogs, "and truly delicious they are when nicely 
cooked in butter till of a rich brown color." We 
have never "spotted" the dish on a restaurant menu, 
and believe the statement to be incapable of verifi- 
cation. Apropos cf frog-eating, however, wo note 
that the Societe Protectrice des Aninuuix has issued 
a strong protest against the present mode of pro- 
viding frogs for the dinner-table in France. It ap- 
pears that the poor creatures when caught have the 
upper part of their legs, or edible portion of their 
bodies, ruthlessly cut off with a pair of shears. The 
frogs in their mutilated state being helpless, they 
are thrown aside. Numbers of them are stated to 
have been found eight or ten days after their mutil- 
ation crawling about on their fore-legs in a pitable 
condition. The eociety, therefore, recommends (hat 
some plan of killing them in the first place should 
be adopted. 



How to Cook a CanvaBback Duck. 

To roast a canvasback duck, pluck the duck ex- 
cept the wings and head. Cutoff the wings. Draw 
the whole inside and windpipe. Put alcohol in a 
small flat pan; set fire to it, and hold the duck over 
it one minute. Clean the duck by rubbing with a 
dry cloth. Cut off the neck and head. Take the 
skin off the head and remove the eyes. Put the 
head inside the duck, with the end of the bill just 
sticking out; season inside with salt and pepper, 
and truss in the ordinary fashion. The web feet 
are not cut off. Roast on the spit for about fif- 
teen minutes more or less, according to size. 

To broil a canvas-back duck. Clean as for roast- 
ing. Split the duck on the back, season and anoint 
with sweet oil. Put the duck in a double gridiron 
with hinge. Cook over a very brisk fire for about 
twelve minutes. When placed on a dish pour over 
it melted butter, with lemon juice, salt, pepper and 
chopped parsley. Canvasbacks should be served 
on hot plates. 



At some hotels the strawberries stand from the 
beginning of the meal in glass dishes on the tables, 
sinothend in pulverized sugar. 



The codfish, when at home rambling through the 
submarine forests, does not wear his vest unbutton- 
ed, as he does while loafing around the grocery 
stores of the United States. 



Turtle a la Chinoise. 

The flesh of turtles forms almost the staple food 
of the natives of large districts in the tropics, and 
is cooked in several ways. No method of culinary 
preparation that we ever heard of, however, would 
be more likely to please both gourmet and gourmand 
than the one credited to the fastidious citizens of 
Pekin. If you follow it, you will take a live turtle 
that you have previously deprived of anything to 
drink long enough to render him exceedingly 
thirsty; you will place him in a caldron of cool 
water in such a position that his body will be im- 
mersed, but that he will be unable to get his mouth 
down to it: at the side of the kettle, within reach of 
jis turtleship, you will then place a bowl of cool 
and spicy wine. This done, set the caldron on the 
fire, and observe with glee the enrichment of your 
noble repast. Urged by thirst, the turtle eagerly 
drinks the wine; and as the slowly heating water in 
which he floats grows hotter and hotter, his thirst 
increases, and he drinks deeper and deeper of the 
wine, until suddenly he is boiled, and dies, full of 
wine, and fragrant through the uttermost fibers of 
his unctuous flesh with the rich condiment he has 
so plentifully imbibed. Luxury and art have reach- 
ed their acme ! — Harper's Bazar. 



In the course of a conversation with a dealer in 
game, a Philadelphia Press reporter learned that 
within a few weeks past, since the advent of cold 
weather, a few venturesome spirits residing in that 
city decided to thoroughly test the value of the meal 
of the rat as an article of diet. The rodents had 
been caught and caged while young, and fed care- 
fully upon grain and green food. The rats thrived 
upon the diet and their silky coats gave evidence 
of a thoroughly healthful condition. At the meal 
in question they had been carefully prepared, and 
were served with other viands. The flesh, after 
cooking, was found to be quite light in color, much 
more so than either the rabbit or the squirrel, and 
possessing a delicacy of flavor entirely unknown to 
either of the last mentioned animals. The experi- 
ment proved entirely successful and a diet of rats 
prepared under proper conditions was voted to be 
practical and economical. 



Middle aged travelers can remember when native 
oysters were sold in Loudon at sixpence per dozen; 
now they are thought cheap at six times the money, 
and it is a singular fact that they are at this mo- 
ment dearer in Loudon than they were in Rome 



when the Emperor Vitellius devoured them all day 
long, and Cicero sustained his philosophy by swal- 
lowing scores of the Rutupine luxuries brought from 
the coast of Kent. 



Arcachon, in France, is justly celebrated for its 
oysters, for in fact a great part of our so-called 
natives are brought from there, kept one season in 
our English beds, and then sold under the name 
they have but little right to bear. The bay is full 
of "oyster parks," to each of which a floating domi- 
cile belongs, tenanted by a guardian always on the 
watch. 



In Norway, where fish is prepared with much in- 
genuity in many ways, they make flour of the flesh 
of the fish ground to powder. It is used instead of 
rice and potatoes, and the biscuits made from it are 
said to be extremely nutricious. 



The Duke of Sutherland, when visiting America, 
last summer, was so much delighted with the flavor 
of the black bass as served up by one of the Clan 
Chattan, Mr. John Sutherland, of New York city, 
that he made great efforts to secure live specimens 
for stocking a lake in his County of Sutherlandshire. 
Mr. George Shepherd Page, President of the Amer- 
ican Piscicultural Association, took out a number 
in the Bteamship Spain, at the end of April, which 
reached Sutherlandshire alive and well. Mr. Page 
was invited to visit the Duke at Dunrobin Castle, 
where he has reported most favorably on the chances 
of naturalizing this fine fish in Scotland. 



Winter Scenes. 

No more the wildwood cheers our eyes 

With eglantine and aster, 
No more the kine do kick the flies 

That tease them in the pastur'. 
No more are rural maids employed 

In mashes with the "utter," 
*?ut well they fill the aching void 

With buckwheat cakes and butter. 

It is about now that the comic oyster winks with 
his pearly shell and laughs inside of himself in an- 
ticipation at the fun he will have at some coming 
church or Sunday school festival. Swimming around 
all alone in ten gallons of soup, boss of the whale 
thing, and not liable to get caught by hungry lad- 
lers. But it's tew bad. 



According to a Baltimore epicure, a highly satis- 
factory stuffing for a duck, whether canvasback or 
redhead, is made by grating enough bread to fill 
the bird, moisten it with cream or with milk, in 
which put a tablespoonful of melted butter; season 
with salt, pepper, etc., the rind of a lemon, a table- 



spoonful of chopped celery and the yolk of an egg. 
If the flavor of an oyster is to you delectable, he 
says, add a few raw oysters whole. A strip of 
bacon placed over the breat of the roasting duck 
gives a delicate, almost imperceptible flavor, and 
prevents it becoming dry. 



It is asserted that the nutritiousness of apples 
has never been properly appreciated and that they 
are far more nourishing than potatoes. Cornish 
workmen say that they can work better on baked 
apples than on potatoes. There is a dish in Corn- 
wall called squab pie, made of mutton with slices 
of potato apple and onion, and, strange as it may 
seem to many, it is excellent. Cornwall is the 
county for meat pies, as the miners carry their din- 
ners with them in that form. 



London is eating dried bananas and declares they 
are delicious. They come from Jamaica, where the 
method has been patented. Fruit prepared twelve 
months ago retains its flavor to a remarkable de- 
gree. The banana is cut in half lengthwise and 
subjected to slow drying, which prevents fermen- 
tation and decay. It is thought these dried bananas 
are to open up a new and important industry. 
They can be made into wine, eaten as they are, or 
cooked. — Ex. 

Dried bananas are common at the street venders' 
fruit stands in Chicago. 



Soups, according to Sir Henry Thompson, whether 
clear or thick, are far too lightly esteemed by most 
classes. They are too often regarded as a mere 
prelude to a meal, to be swallowed hastily or dis- 
carded altogether. 



Among the palatable soups of the period is a 
bisque of crabs, but seldom is it prepared by the 
card. 



Egg plant is a vegetable susceptible of being sent 
to the table in a dozen different styles and ways. 



A Boston paper gives this as the way to mak 8 
Lancashire pie: "Take cold beef or veal, chop and 
season as for hash; have ready hot mashed pota- 
toes, seasoned as if for the table, and put in a shal- 
low baking dish first a layer of meat, then a layer 
of potatoes, and so on, till the dish is heaping full; 
smooth over top of potatoes, and make little holes 
in which place bits of butter, bake until a nice 
brown." 



The exportation of frozen meat from New Zealand to 
Englaud has become successful beyond the expec- 
tations of its projectors. Recent sales of mutton 
have been especially satisfactory; indeed it appears 



that the value of a sheep is nearly doubled by con- 
veying its carcass from Dunedin to London. 



"What Tripe Is. 

[Burlington Ilawkeye.] 

Occasionaly you see a man order tripe at a hotel, 
but he always looks hard, as though he hated him- 
self and everybody else. He tries to look as though 
he enjoyed it, but he does not. Tripe is indiges- 
tible, and looks like an India rubber apron for a 
child to sit on. When it is pickled it looks like 
dirty clothes put to soak, and when it is cooking it 
'ooks as though the cook was boiling a dish cloth. 
On the table it looks like glue and tastes like a piece 
of old silk umbrella cover. A stomach that is not 
lined with corrugated iron would be turned wrong 
side out by the smell of tripe. A man eating tripe 
at a hotel table looks likean Arctic explorer dining 
on his boots or chewiug pieces of frozen dog. You 
cannot look at a man eating tripe but he will blush 
and look as though he wanted to apologize and con- 
vince you he is taking it to tone up his system. A 
woman never eats tripe. There is not money enough 
in the world to hire a woman to take a corner of a 
sheet of tripe in her teeth and try to pull off a piece. 
Those who eat tripe are men who have had their 
stomachs play mean tricks on them, and they eat 
tripe to get even with their stomachs, and then they 
go and take a Turkish bath to sweat it out of their 
system. Tripe is a superstition handed down from 
a former generation of butchers, who sold all the 
meat and kept the tripe for themselves and the dogs, 
but the dogs of the present day will not eat tripe. 
You throw a piece of tripe down in front of a dog 
and see if he does not put his tail between his legs 
and go off and hate you. Tripe may have a value, 
but it is not as food. It may be good to fill in a 
burglar-proof safe, with the cement and chilled 
steel, or it might answer to use as a breast plate in 
the time of war, or it would be good to use for 
bumpers between cars, or it would make a good 
face for the weight of a pile driver, but when you 
come to smuggle it into the stomach you do wrong. 
Tripe! Bah! A piece of Turkish towel soaked in 
axle grease would be pie compared with tripe. 



Redsnapper loses its fine flavor by being sent 
North on ice, and is best eaten where it is caught, 
say epicures. 



Roast grouse are often ruined by being allowed 
to stand after being taken from the fire, and thus 
become dry and parched. All game tastes best 
that is sent immediately from the fire to the dinner 
table. 



Terrapin croquettes are something made by cer- 
tain Philadelphia caterers to perfection, and as 



made by them constitute a dish fit to set before 
the king. 



Mushrooms Not Poisonous. 

People must talk and write paragraphs, but one 
that is now going the rounds should not be allowed 
to raise a new prejudice against the delicious and 
and wholesome ediblo mushroom, that is but just 
beginning to be appreciated in this country. The 
statement is made and backed up with some foreign 
name of a doctor that mushrooms are poisonous 
always; that the water they are boiled in is more 
poisonous; that mushrooms in the raw state are 
most poisonous, and their poisonous properties do 
not depart from them until they are dried and kept 
a certain number of days. It does not say whether 
they are to be dried in the dark of the moon or not. 
But the statement goes on that a dog fed on mush- 
rooms died in a certain number of days from their 
effects. We do not know about the dog, there being 
no witnesses named, but think we could have killed 
him with peaches and cream, or peach and honey, 
or rock and rye, or almost any other thing besides 
mushrooms, if we had had a motive for it. It is 
not long since wo read that a dog died because it 
was fed so many days on bread. Still, we have not 
given up eating bread. It has also been stated that 
the bread we eat is more or less poisonous, so is 
the meat, so is the air, the water, the paper on the 
walls, the paste it is put on with, the soap we use, 
the coffee, tea, flavoring extracts, tobacco, but they 
seem to be amazingly slow in operation. Some 
poisons are really quite wholesome and pleasaut. 
Arsenic, as is well known, is quite extensively 
eaten for its fattening properties, and mushrooms 
cannot certainly be any worse than arsenic. That 
tliey are not is shown in their consumption in large 
quantities daily in the hotels and restaurants; and 
the sauces are made with the liquor they are boiled 
in. The customers make meals of them, the cooks 
make meals of them — these are the canned. Fresh 
mushrooms are cooked and eaten all through the 
season when they are obtainable, and some kinds 
that are not true mushrooms are sold and bought 
and cooked and served with equal harmlessness. 
The writer has gathered mushrooms and eaten them 
raw, as children do, in the fields where they grew 
in abundance, and stole the ketchup before it was 
finished making and absorbed mushroom poison in 
overy way, along with bread poison, coffee poison, 
and all the rest. There is no need of proving that 
all these things are not poisonous as long as they 
continue to prove wholesome and beneficial, and no 
need to prove that even those foreign named doc- 
tors are quite harmless as long as matters turn out 
so serious with the unhappy canines. 



row, dates, raisins, figs and ginger — and it is re- 
lated that Page invited Falstaff and his friends to a 
dinuer of '•hot venison pastry," wound up by "pip- 
pins and cheese." 



In England 200 years ago pies and pastries were 
made of all sorts of good things — artichokes, mar- 



The Various Frying Mixtures, from 
Olive Oil to Butter and Lard. 

From The Caterer. 

There are several oily and fatty substances used 
'or frying, which we name in the order of their 
cost. Olive oil is almost exclusively used in olive- 
bearing countries as the cheapest frying material. 
Here it is quite costly and but little used, save by 
the wealthy or the epicure who prizes it for the olive 
flavor it communicates to food cooked in it. Others, 
again, dislike and reject it for the same reason. 
Clarified butter comes next in cost and is prepared 
as follows: Put the butter into an enameled sauce- 
pan and melt it gently over a clear fire; when it 
begins to simmer take it off tho fire, skim well, let 
stand in a warm corner till the buttermilk or cheesy 
matter has settled, then pour it off steadily from 
the Bediment, through fine muslin, into a stone or 
glass jar, cover and keep in a cool place. It is the 
best of all fryiug material and greatly superior to 
lard, in that the slight flavor it communicates is 
quite pleasaut and appetizing. 

A third preparation, a favorite with many of the 
best European cooks, and a genuine mixture, is com- 
posed of equal measure of olive oil, butter, veal suet 
and leaf lard. The butter is first melted and stirred 
into the other threo, already mixed and melted; 
then it is strained into a stone pot and kept always 
in cold place, well covered. The combined flavor 
of the four ingredients is acceptable to almost all 
tastes. 

Fresh butter comes next and is much to be pre- 
ferred to lard, but it has one objectionable quality. 
Ou account of the buttermilk and salt it contains it 
scorches and burns when subjected to a high or 
long-continued heat. This renders it unfit for the 
cooking of many delicate dishes. This tendency 
can, however, be much lessened by rubbing the 
frying-pan with a small muslin bag filled with pre- 
pared bee suet. 

Lard is the common, well-nigh universal frying 
material in America, because it is cheap and to be 
had in every nook and corner of the land. Its free 
use has caused many a dyspeptic stomach. If used 
at all only the best leaf lard should be employed 
and rendered out by steam or boiling water, so as 
to avoid the burnt taste it gets if rendered on the 
open fire. 



There are times, no doubt, when a civilized man 
may eat liver and enjoy it; but these times occur 
but seldom, and to most persons never. To the 
shipwrecked mariner, tossed in his frail boat upon 



the pitiless sea, the Block of old boots exhausted 
and nil his companions eaten, then a small piece of 
of liver is not altogether unacceptable. (Said by 
one who doesn't know.) 



An alleged new salad called Brussels is made of 
lobsters, oysters, chicken and tongue mixed with 
celery. 



Salads and Salad-Making. 

From London Society. 

The obvious accompaniment to cold meats is salad, 
which may be truly said to fill the bowl which cheers 
but not inebriates. No wonder that, tradition 
tells us it takes three people to make a good salad; 
a sage, to contribute the salt; a miser, to add the 
vinegar, and a prodigal, to pour in the oil. To 
which may be added an untiring steam arm or elec 
trie motor, to stir up the mixture for an indefinite 
time. For, if "when taken, to be well shaken" is 
applicable to anything that enters the human 
stomach, it assuredly is to the assemblage of ingre- 
dients which go to make a finished salad. In de- 
fault of an automatic mechanical salad-mixer, it is 
the host's duty to perform that task; and it is polite on 
his part to help himself first, because the best lies at 
the bottom of the bowel. Fatiguer, to fatigue the salad, 
is the French expressive description of how it ought 
to be turned over and over; so much so, that "Je 
vais te faire la salade" is a popular threat that a 
good drubbing instead of a good time, is coming. 
Another saying, "Bataillons de salade," battalions 
drawn promisciously from divers and sundry corps 
of soldiers, is founded on the multiplicity of herbs 
eligible for the composition of a salad. The hemp 
plant was known as "Salade deGascogne," Gascony 
salad, because it furnished ropes wherewith male- 
factors in the South of France were hanged. By 
such salad many a one has been choked, who pre- 
viously had cultitivated the cause of his death — 
theereby suffering a much worse malady than that 
implied by the proverb. 

"Qui vin ne boit apres salade, 
Est en danger d'estre malade." 

"After salad take some wine, 
And health with pleasure thus combine." 

"Salad eaten, claret take, 
And avoid a stomach-ache." 

A glass of good Bordeau or Burgundy wine, or 
even of pale ale, with or after salad, is a better, and 
to many people, a more agreeable digestive than 
pepper — white, black or red — mixed with the veg- 
etables as seasoning. 



were pronounced excellent. They were boiled hard 
and eaten with pepper. 



Snails are not adequate in supply to the demand 
and are rapidly increasing in favor among our 
native epicures. 



Seagulls' eggs wsre served at a recent dinner in 
Halifax, given to some Government officials, and 



The Evolution of Bread. 

Persons of extreme views are apt to maintain 
that all mankind, being normally savages, were as 
normally cannibals; but, leaving that moot question 
altogether on one side, it seems probable that 
humanity ate acorns long before they ate cereals or 
learned the art of making bread, and that the ven- 
eration entertained by the Druids of Gaul and 
Britain for the oak was due to the circumstance 
that its glands were the staple food of the people. 
Bread, properly so called, was transmitted by the 
Greeks to the Romans; and either the latter or the 
Phoenicians may have introduced the cultivation of 
corn into Gaul. While, however, the land was 
mainly covered with immense forests, a long time 
must have elapsed before the practice of eating 
acorns, chestnuts, and beech mast was abandoned, 
and even when corn was regularly grown, ripened 
and harvested, the grains were merely plucked 
from the ear and eaten raw or slightly parched. 
The next step was to infuse the grain in hot water 
for the making of a species of gruel or porridge, 
and a long time afterwards it may have occurred to 
some bright genius to pound the corn in a mortar 
or rub it to a powder between two stones. Subse- 
quently came the handmill; but it was not until 
after the First Crusade that the windmill was in- 
troduced from the East, whither it had probably 
found its way from China The first bread was 
evidently baked on the ashes and unleavened, and 
the intolerable pangs of indigestion brought on by 
a continual course of "galette" or "damper" may 
have suggested the use of a fermenting agent, which 
in the first instance was probably stale bread turned 
sour. Pliny has distinctly told us in bis "Natural 
History" that the Gauls leavened their bread with 
yeast made from the lye of beer; yet, strangely 
enough, they abandoned the use of beer yeast, and 
did not resume it until the middle of the seventeenth 
century. Its revival in France made the fortune 
of many bakers; then the medical faculty sounded 
an alarm, declaring tliBt yeast made from beer was 
poisonous. lis employment was prohibited by law 
in 1<>66, but the outcry raised by tho bakers and 
the public was so vehement that in the following 
year the decree of prohibition was cancealed, with 
proviso that the yeast was to bo procured only 
from beer freshly brewed in Paris or tho immediate 
neighborhood. Some form of fermented bread, 
however, the French had been eating for 1,000 



years in contradistinction to the gruel and pulse- 
eating Italians and Levantines and the purely vege- 
tarian Hindus. 



American Pie. 

The foreign visitor to these shores has, with very 
few exceptions, denounced pie as a deadly inven- 
tion of some culinary Satan. He has gazed with 
mingled pity and horror upon the native pie-eater, 
and has often been tempted to stretch out a hand 
to save him from a life of suffering and dyspepsia. 
Coming from a nation where pie is treated with no 
jess contempt than is bestowed by Herr Bismarck 
upon the inoffensive and salutary American hog, he 
is unable to understand by what unlucky chance 
the American people have become a nation of pie- 
eaters. Every disagreeable peculiarity of American 
society he attributes to pie. Pie is responsible for 
every variety of »vil in our politics. Ruffianism 
and crime are due to pie, and pie, indeed, is the 
source of almost as many ills as "that forbidden 
fruit whose mortal taste brought death into the 
world, and all our woe." Yet in spite of foreign 
scorn and prejudice the pie habit survives and each 
year adds thousands and thousands to the adorers 
of pie. The American love for pie can never be 
conquered. It is the strongest proof of American 
birth. The person who does not eat pie is regarded 
by Americans with distrust, and foreigners who do 
eat it are hailed as brothers. The United States 
will experience a thrill of satisfaction and good 
feeling to hear that the Czar has ordered 1,000,000 
pies for his coronation ceremonies. It will rejoice 
to learn that there is at least one foreign nation 
that does not share the hostility felt by other great 
powers toward pie. Russia and America have 
always been on friendly terms, but this gratifying 
proof that the Czar is alive to the beauty and excel- 
lence of pie will unite them in the strongest bonds 
of sympathy and good-will. 



Something About Salad Oil. 

N. T. Snn. 

The gourmand who carefully makes up his own 
dish of cool looking salad is very apt to be deceived 
into believing that the rich gold colored oil ht pours 
upon it is from the land of olives. It is an almost 
even chance that it is from the land of cotton, for 
thr sale of cotton seed oil for olive oil has become 
so expensive that the Italian Government has begun 
to taka strong measures toward keeping the former 
product out of Italy, where it is taken in Italian 
vessel* from New Orleans, to be bottled and labeled, 
and ?eturned to this country, so that merchants can 
say that it is imported. But, to those who dread 
» he substitution of cotton seed oil for olive oil, there 



is comfort in the fact that the supply of the native 
product is limited, for planters whose lands are thin 
prefer to return the seed to them, and the cotton 
lands of the lower Mississippi, which do not need 
careful fertilizing, furnish the seed for the seventy 
cotton seed oil mills in the South. This enterprise 
is bound to remain confined to the South, for the 
seed is so bulky that transportation would not be 
profitable. That the manufacture of cotton seed 
oil, however, will increase is beyond doubt, as the 
raw seed goes through processes that nearly treble 
its value, and its oil is being used for paint and also 
for lubricating machinery. 



An Incredible Story. 

Pall Mall Gazette. 

Not only has the intellect of the worm been sadly 
unappreciated for centuries till Mr. Darwin rehab- 
ilitated that sagacious reptile, but it appears now 
that his value as a viand has also been grossly mis- 
understood and underrated. A group of French 
gourmets, whose object it is to do for the cookery 
of the future what Wagner is doing for its music, 
are happily following up tha labors of Darwin in 
this direction, and, having recently tried this 
tempting morsel, have communicated to a grateful 
public the result of their researches. Fifty guests 
were present at the experiment. The worms, ap- 
parently lob-worms, were first put into vinegar, by 
which process they were made to disgorge the fam- 
ous vegetable mold about which we have heard so 
much. They were then rolled in batter and put 
into an oven, where they acquired a delightful golden 
tint, and, we are assured, a most appetizing smell. 
After the first plateful the fifty guests rose like one 
man and asked for more. Could anything be more 
convincing? Those who love snails, they add, will 
abandon them forever in favor of worms. And yet 
M. Monselet, the great authority in Paris, has told 
us sadly that no advances have been made in the 
art of cookery since Brillat-Savarin, and that all 
enthusiasm on the subject died out with Vatel when 
he committed suicide because the fish had not ar- 
rived for the royal dinner. 



It was the Duke of Wellington, we believe, who 
referred to hash as "something left over from the 
fight of yesterday," but at some hotels they make 
it so nicely of lamb and potatoes that even epicures 
have expressed satisfaction with it. 



There are three dishes, it is said, which if put 
upon the bill of fare of a London club, are devoured 
before all the rest; so that at 7 or 8 o'clock, when 
most members dine, there is nothing left of them. 
These dishes are Irish stew, tripe and onions, and 
liver and bacon. 



SCRAPS ABOUT GREAT EATERS 
AND EPICURES. 

Queer Customers of Cafes. 

In M. Eugene Chavelte's witty and curious little 
Tolume, published in 1807, "Restaurateurs et Res- 
taures," some entertaiuiug portraits are given of 
eccentric guests, celebrated at Parisian cafes. One 
of the most famous of these was Courier, commonly 
called "The Fork of .Death," a frequenter of the 
Restaurant Bonvelet, who invited a victim to dine 
with him by the year, and slew him with high feed- 
ing. The first died of apoplexy after a six months' 
combal; the second held his own for two years, and 
then succumbed to a "liver complaint" — an indi- 
gestion brought on by over-indulgence in the liver 
of the Strasburg goose, "three days after," as 
Gourier sadly said, when gazing on the funeral from 
the window of the restaurant, "I had treated him 
to a new hat for his birthday." A third champion 
then descended into the arena, a long lean man 
named Ameline, who said as his invariable grace 
when sitting down to table with his host, "You ras- 
cal, I'm going to bury you;" while the host gently 
replied by way of "Amen," "Nonsense; the other 
two said the same thing." The crafty Ameline 
however, took occasion to pick a quarrel monthly 
with his amphitryon, and, retiring sulkily to his 
tent, dieted himself on tea, toast, and senna, re- 
turning to the encounter mollified and refreshed 
after au absence of two or three days, during which 
Gourier lost still more ground by eating rapidly, 
and injuring his digestion by solitary and gloomy 
reflections. One day, after this duel had lasted 
three years, Gourier, who had just helped himself 
to a fourteenth slice of 4-year-old Welsh mutton, 
threw his head back. His companion, thinking he 
was about to sneeze, muttered the customery bene- 
diction; but Gourier fell forward into the currant 
jelly, dead as the mutton he so dearly loved. He 
who had taken the fork had perished by the fork. 
He should have imitated the prudent diner of the 
Cafe Riche, who always had two dozen saucers piled 
at his left when he sat down to table, and wore one 
between his collar and the nape of his neck through- 
out the repast, changing it as it became warm, as a 
preventive against apoplexy. 



The heroes of gastronomy, including Mr. Walton 
himself, will gnash their teeth, which, excepting 
their stomachs, must be regarded as their most 
valuable possessions, when they hear of the exploit 
just accomplished by Thomas Clute, of Mount 
Morris, N.Y. On Feb. 6 that individual ate six 
quarts of sauer kraut within the space of thirty- 
seven minutes, and washed it down with a bottle of 
champagne. Having survived this feat in excel- 



lent condition he now ulleiAj to bet a reasonable 
amount that he can eat eight quarts of sauer kraut 
within an hour. This challenge is likely to result 
in an international contest, for Clute is not a Ger- 
man, and the children of the Fatherland will not 
tamely submit to his imputation on their capacity 
in the sauer kraut line. 



Captain Morris, George the Fourth's boon com- 
panion, used to sing: 

Old Lucullus, they say, 
Forty cooks had each day, 
And Vitellius's meals cost a million; 
But I like what is good 
When and where be my food, 
In a chop-house or royal pavilion. 

At all feasts (if enough) 

I most heartily stuff, 
And a song at my heart alike rushes 

Though I've not fed my lungs 

Upon nightingales' tongues, 
Nor the brains of goldfinches and thrushes. 



There was a good deal of monotony and variety 
about the monthlv repast of the eccentric who used 
to dine at the Maison Phillippe, going conscien- 
tiously through the thirty-five or forty soups on the 
bill of fare, and topping off with a cream meringue. 
Another much pointed out diner trequented the 
Restaurant Vefour, distinguishing himself by his 
devotion to sweets — a plump and rosy little old 
gentleman, who had carried the Princess Lamballe's 
head round Paris on a pike in his salad days. 
Handel, who ordered the dinner for four, and, ar- 
riving alone, bade it be brought in "brestissimo — I 
am de gompany," was outdone by the man of an 
unbounded stomach who used to visit Vachette's 
every fortnight and call for the proprietor, Brebant, 
and give the following order: "My dear Brebant, I 
shall have six friends to dinner to-morrow" (men- 
tioning their names); "all experienced diners, you 
see! Get us up a nice little dinner — 70 francs a 
head, without wine. Have it served at 6 o'clock, 
post-office time; I have told them to be punctual." 
At 5:45 the host arrives, inspects the table, writes 
out the names of the diners and places their cards 
at their plates, arranges the relishes according to 
the taste of each, then takes out his watch. "Ah ! 
6 o'clock, and no one here." Brebant: "Perhaps 
you are fast?" "No, I always keep post-office time, 
and I told them 6 to the minute. I'll give them a 
lesson. Have dinner served." Brebant: "But they 
may have been unaccountably delayed " "Well, 
I'll give them five minutes' grace." After watching 
for them in vain, "Put on the dinner; they can 
overtake me." Then he fell to and devoured the 
dinner for seven, indulging in a monologue for the 
benefit of the waiter. "Why on earth did all those 



scoundrels fail to keep their appointment ?" Coffee 
being served be sends for Brebant, and says, with 
triumphant smile, "You see, if I had taken your 
advice I'd be waiting for them still. I'll invite them 
again two weeks from now, and see if they will be 
more punctual " And two weeks later, the same 
comedy having been performed with due solemnity, 
the diner reiterates his deteimination with indig- 
nant vehemence, "D — n them ! I'll ask them again; 
I want to see how far they will carry their brutal 
lack of politeness!" 



What Bismarck Eats. 

There seems to be something in the air and life 
of Germany extraordinarily favorable to the diges- 
tion. Bismarck has thriven on mixtures of cham- 
pagne and porter washing down meals at the de- 
scription of which the American trembles, but he 
does no more than the other most famous ruler of 
his country, Frederick the Great. Here is what 
Dr. Zimmerman saw him devour when a septuagen- 
arian invalid: "A very large quantity of soup, of 
the strongest and most highly spiced ingredients, 
Yet spiced as it already was, he added to each plate 
of it a large spoonful of powdered ginger and mace; 
then a good piece of boeuf a la Russe — beef steeped 
in half a pint of brandy. Next he took a great 
quantity of an Italian dish, half Indian corn, half 
Parmesan cheese. To this the juice of garlic is 
added, and the whole is baked in butter until there 
arises a hard rind as thick as a finger. This, one 
of the King's most darling dishes, is called Polenta. 
At last, the King having expressed his satisfaction 
at the excellent appetite which the dandeloin gave 
him, closed the scene with a whole plateful of eel 
pie, so hot and fiery it seemed as if it had been 
bilked in hell. At other times he would eat a large 
quantity of chilling and unwholesome fruits, es- 
pecially melons, and then again a vast number of 
sweetmeats. 



Byron's extravagant fondness for macaroni has 
been recorded in more than one sketch of his tastes 
and habits, but his biographers have omitted to 
mention the fact that he was wont to bestow his 
macaroni so thickly with slices of truffle that the 
result — his favorite dish — might have been more 
correctly described as "truffles au macaroni" than 
as "macaroni aux truffles." 



There are many examples on record of a voracity 
almost incredible, and sometimes, indeed, including 
the most unlikely objects. Sparing my readers any 
sucb details, I prefer to relate two actual instances 
from my own experience, which do not require on 
their part any great effort of faith. 

Some forty years ago I went to pay a flying vi9it 



to the vicar of Bregnier, a man of great stature, and 
known throughout the district for his power of 
eating. Though scarcely midday, I found him 
already at the table; the soup had been removed, as 
well as the meat boiled in it, and these two regular 
dishes had been followed by a leg of mutton, a fine 
fowl and a large bowl of salad. On seeing me he 
ordered another knife and fork, which I declined; 
and it was well I did so, for alone, and without any 
assistance, he quite easily got rid of everything, 
leaving of the mutton nothing but the bone, of the 
fowl nothing but the skeleton, and of the salad no- 
thing but the bowl. Next they brought a cheese of 
considerable size and in it he made an angular 
breach of ninety degrees; the whole being washed 
down with a bottle of wine and a decanter of water, 
he then went to have his forty winks. 

One thing which delighted me was, that during 
the whole of this performance, lasting nearly three 
quarters of an hour, the venerable pastor did not 
at all seem too much engrossed in his work, The 
huge pieces which he threw into his capacious 
mouth prevented him neither from talking nor 
laughing, and he despatched all that was put before 
him with as little effort as if he had only eaten a 
couple of larks. 



In the same way General Bisson, who drank eight 
bottles of wine every day at breakfast,never seemed 
to be doing anything of the sort. His glass was 
larger than the others, and he emptied it oftener; 
but you would have said that he did it without any 
effort, and, whilst thus imbibing his sixteen pints 
he could as freely join in pleasant chat or give his 
orders as if he had only drunk a single bottle. 



At the age of eighteen, General Sibuet had that 
happy appetite by which Nature announces her in- 
tention of completing a well developed man, when 
one evening he entered Genin's dining rooms, where 
the worthies of the place usually met to eat chest- 
nuts over a bottle of white wine there called 
"cross grain." 

A superb turkey had just been taken off the spit, 
a fine bird, golden, done to a turn, and scenting the 
room enough to tempt a saint. 

The village worthies, not being hungry, took very 
little notice of it; but the digestive powers ot young 
Sibuet were stirred within him, and with his mouth 
watering, he cried, "I have only just had dinner, 
yet I'll lay a bet to eat that big turkey all by 
myself." 

"Done !" replied Bouvier du Bouchet, a stout 
farmer, who happened to be in the room; if you'll 
eat it, I'll pay for you; but if you come to a halt, 
then you'll pav, and I'll eat the rest." 

Instantly setting to work, the young athlete de- 
tatched a wing skillfully and swallowed it in two 
mouthful.-: then kept his teeth in play whilst taking 



a glass of wine as an interlude, by crunching the 
nec< of the fowl. 

Next he tackled the thigh, and after eating it 
with the same self-possession, took a second glass 
of wine to clear the way for the remainder. Very 
soon the second wing went the same road, and on 
its disappearance, the performer, as keen as ever, 
was taking hold of the only remaining limb, when 
the unfortunate farmer shouted in a doleful tone, 
"Ah! I see very well you'll win; but as I have to 
pay, leave me a 9mall bit to myself." 

Sibuet was as good natured as he afterwards 
showed himsef courageous, and not only consented to 
his opponent's request, who thus had for his share 
the carcase of the fowl, but paid both for the turkey 
and the necessary accompaniments. 

- — Brillat-Savarin. 



Some Noted Epicures. 
From All The Year Round. 

Among noted epicures of this era — Louis XIV — 
were the Marquis de Cussy, iuventer of a cake 
which still bears his name; Camerani, a mediocre 
actor, but excellent stage manager of the Comedie 
Italienne, who employed his leisure hours in the 
composition of a soup, the materials of which were 
so costly as to be beyond the reach of the ordinary 
epicure; and Journiac de St. Meard, the same who 
during the Reign of Terror had miraculously escap- 
ed sharing the fate of his fellow-suspects in the 
prison of the Abbaye. According to contemporary 
accounts, it was his custom to take his place at the 
table early in the morning and never leave it before 
night; and it is recorded of him that, having invit- 
ed a friend to dinner, he pressed him to partake 
ofa particular dish, which the other declined doing, 
pleading as an excuse that he feared it might not 
agree with him. "Bah!" contemptuously exclaimed 
Journiac, "you don't mean to say that you are one 
of the idiots who trouble themselves about their di- 
gestion!" 

Nor must a certain priest be forgotten, whose 
elasticity of conscience in culinary matters was pro- 
verbial. Being invited on a fast day to a repast 
befitting the occasion at the house of a noted lover 
of good cheer, he was on the point of helping him- 
self to a dish, the odor of which singularly tickled 
his palate, when the lay brother who accompanied 
him enjoined him in a whisper not to touch it, 
adding that he had seen it prepared in the litchen 
and that the gravy was simply the essence of meal. 
"Meddling fool!" angrily muttered his superior, 
pushing away the dish with a sigh of mortificaliou; 
"what business had he in the kitchen? Couldn't 
he have kept it to himself until after dinner?" 

We can remember many years ago conversing 
with an old gentleman who had been on intimate 



terms with Brillat-Savarin and Giimod de la lley. 
niere, and questioning him about them. "Brillat- 
Savarin," he said, "was the pleasantest and cheer- 
iest of men, but he had one defect; he was inordin- 
ately fond of pork, and I recollect a dinner given 
by him at Villers-sur-Orge, on which occasion a 
delicately-prepared sucking-pig met with such gen- 
eral approbation that our host sent for the cook, 
and after complimenting him on his si ill, declared 
his intention of bestowing on him a suitable recom- 
pense, and having ascertained on inquiry that M. 
Pierre's ambition was to marry a young girl whose 
face was her fortune, promised a handsome dowry 
to the bride, besides paying for the wedding din- 
ner; so that the sucking-pig eventually cost him 
over G.000 francs." 

During the Consulate and the Empire the mos£ 
fashionable "tiaiteur" was the Beauvi liers, whose 
splendid dining rooms in the Rue Richelieu were 
frequented by tha best society in Paris. Unlike 
the generality of his colleagues, he was equally re- 
nowned for his polished and courteous manners 
and for the orthodox propriety of his costumes; he 
invariably received bis customers himself, and too't 
infinite pains that everything set before them should 
be sufficiently temptiug to induce them to repeat 
their visit. One day a gentleman, whom he recog- 
nized as a well known marquis, came in and order- 
ed a "supreme de volaille" (a specialty of the es- 
tablishment), which in due time was placed on the 
table. Beauvilliers, happening to pass by at the 
moment, glanced at the dish, and in spite of the re- 
monstrances of the marquis pounced upon it, and 
delivered it to a waiter, directing him to have an- 
other prepared immediately. Then, turning to his 
indignant visitor, and de'iberately savouring a pinch 
of snuff, "M. le Marquis," he said, "you will par- 
don the abruptness of my proceeding but the honor 
of my house is at stake. I regret that you should 
be exposed to a little temporary inconvenience, but 
I cannot allow my reputation to be compromised by 
a failure." 

When the illustrious academicians, Villemain and 
Victor Cousin, were young students, they generally 
dined together for the sake of economy, their 
modest repast consisting of a single dish of meat, 
with now and then a couple of apples, one for each; 
by way of dessert. On these gala occasions Ville- 
main, who had a weakness for this supplementary 
luxury, never omitted to start a subject of conver- 
sat:on on which his companion loved to air his 
theories; and while the latter declaimed and philo- 
sophised to his heart's content, quiet'y ate both the 
apples. 

To the foregoing list of gastronomic celebrities 
may be added the names of three men of mark of 
our own time, Balzac, Alexandre Dumas and 
Ros9ini. The first of these, although sufficiently 
abstemious in other respects, had an inordinate pre- 



dilection for pa9try and fruit, devouring, as Leon 
Gozlan tells us, whole dishes of Montreuil peaches 
and juicy pears with Gaigantuan facility. Dumas 
considered his culinary manual a masterpiece far 
superior to the Mousquetaires or Monte-Cristo, 
while the composer of II Barbiere was never so 
happy as when superintending the preparation of a 
dish invented by himself- "I was born to be a 
cook," he exclaimed one evening, while presiding 
at the supper-table of his villa at Passy, "and have 
altogether missed my vocation!" 

"But, maestro," objected one of his guests, "in 
that case we should have had no Guillaume 
Tell." 

"Bah!" contemptuously retorted Rossini, "any- 
one could have done that. Donizetti and Bellini 
can write operas, but if either of them were to try 
his baud at a 'timbale de macaroni aux truffes, " 
helping himself largely as he spoke to the delicacy 
in questiou, "do you imagine for a moment that it 
would taste like this." 



in the French convents scattered throughout the 
land. 



Epicurean Clergy 

It is a remarkable fact thatj the epicures of the 
world should be so largely indebted to the French 
clergy for the luxuries they enjoy. It has been sug- 
gested that during the long season of Lent these 
holy men have been in the habit of relieving their 
privations by employing their ingenuity in the in- 
vention of pleasant foods and drinks in readiness 
for the return of the days of feasting. Whether there 
is any foundation for this or not is not positively 
known, but the fact remains that the clergy, from 
whatever cause, are capital inventors of all comes- 
tibles. One of the largest oyster parks in the 
country was started by the Abbe Bonnetard, the 
cure of La Teste, whose system of artificial cultiva- 
tion was so successful that last year, of 151,000,000 
ovster9 distributed through France, 97,000,000 
were produced by the abbe. Canon Agen was the 
discoverer of the terrines of the Nerac. The rilettes 
of Tours are the work of a monk of Marmoutiers. 
The renowned liqeurs Chartreuse, Trappestine, 
Benedictine, and others betray their monastic origin 
in their names, and the strangest part of their pro- 
duction is that they should be the work of the most 
severe and ascetic of religious bodies. The Elixir 
of Garus is the invention of the Abbe Garus. The 
Beziers sausages were first prepared under the 
direction of the Prior Lamouroux. The popular 
Bergougnous sauce was first mingled by the Abbe 
Bergougnous. The delicate Floguard cakes are the 
invention of the Abbe Floguard. Even the immor- 
tal glory of the discovery of champagne is attributed 
to a monk. To these may be added the innumer- 
able delicacies in bon-bons, confectionery, and the 
like, which owe their origin entirely to the nuns 



Lovers of Truffles. 

London Telegraph. 

Herr Julius Olden, a contemporary eulogist of 
the truffle, boldly asserts that ever since the dis- 
covery of this toothsome tuber it has been beloved 
of poets and musicians above a'l other comestibles. 
Among its most renowned votaries he assigns front- 
rank places to Georges Sand — who bestowed upon 
it the fanciful title of "Fair Potato," and immor- 
talized its merits in a metrical legend — Lord Byron 
and Rossini. Byron's extravagant fondness for 
macaroni has been recorded in more than one eketch 
of his tastes and habits; but his biographers, ac- 
cording to Herr Olden, have omitted to mention the 
fact that he was want to bestrew his macaroni so 
thickly with slices of truffle that the result — his 
favorite dish — might have been more correctly de- 
scribed as "truffles au macaroni" than as "maca- 
roni aux truffles." The Swan Pesaro was no less 
enthusiastic a truffle-worshiper than the author of 
'Don Juan." It was Rossini whose fertile brain, 
stimulated to superhuman activity by dread of an 
impending gastronomical calamity, invented truffle 
salad. He was dining one day with several cele" 
brated epicures, at the table of Baron James Roths- 
child. The moment had arrived for serving the 
roti, when it was discovered to the horror of all 
present, that the Baron's chef had forgotten to 
provide any salad ! Rossini was the only person 
who preserved his presence of mind. He called for 
truffles and the castors, cut up the former into deli- 
cate slices, mixed a sublime dressing with the con- 
tents of the latter, and in a few minutes produced 
a salad of so seductively delicate a flavor that his 
admiring fellow-gourmets unanimously christened 
it "the poetry of truffles set to music by Maestro 
Rossini." 



The following anecdote of the Count Vittalio 
Borromeo and his famous chef is related: "The 
Count was a great epicure, and would sooner part 
with his best friend than with his cook. This cul- 
uary artist knew how to please his master with a 
variety of dishes, known only to himself, in fact his 
own production, among which was one, that for the 
delicacy of its meat, the aroma of its condiment,and 
the general care taken in its preparation, made it 
the favorite above all the rest, and for many years 
it held the monopoly of the Count's table. The 
cook died, and many filled his place, but to no sat- 
isfaction. Money was freely lavished but to no 
purpose. The Count was languishing for want of 
an appetite, until one day, after a careful investi- 
gation an old scullion, for many years au inmate of 



the palace, conducted the new cook to a remote 
sub-cellar of the palace, in a corner of which a large 
cage was built, and continually supplied with enor- 
mous rats, fed on meal and milk, fattened and 
purified, until ready lo kill These, and the ingenu- 
ity of the cooii, kept for a long time the old Count 
in ecstasy over his table.'' 



A Tableau. 

Paris Paper. 

M. Gaulthier de Rumilly, dean of the senate, re- 
ceived a visit a few days ago from his landlord. It 
was a question of repairs to to be made, and the 
senator explained what he wanted to have done. 
The proprietor listened attentively and promising 
to have everything done. Six o'clock struck. 

"Six o'clock already," said the landlord. 

"Exactly," replied \I. de Rumilly; "but that 
doesn't matter, for I hope you will do me the honor 
of dining with me." 

"You are very kind," replied the landlord, 
"but—" 

"I insist; I shall not let you leave at this hour; 
your p'ate is already laid." 

''It is impossible." 

"I shall be angry." 

"It is impossible, notwithstanding the desire I 
have to remain. My affairs call me elsewhere at 
precisely this hour." 

"You do not wish to share my dinner ?" said the 
senator, slightly vexed. 

"You will understand why. They dine at M. de 
Rothschild's at 7 o'clock." 

"Ah, you are his guest !" 

"No, I am his cook." 

Tableau. 



Roman Cooks and Gourmands 

Quarterly Review. 

In Juvenal's time the salary of a good cook was 
ten times higher than that of a tutor, a man of learn- 
ing and ability, who, according to Lucian, was 
denied well paid with 200 sesterces a year. The 
salary of Dionysia, a danseuse, was 200,000. The 
houses and establishments of the two players in 
pantomime, Bathyllus and Pylades, rivaled those 
of the richest patricians. There were three Romans 
named Apicius, each celebrated for devotion to gas- 
tronomy. The second, who flourished under Tiber- 
ius, was the most famous, and enjoys the credit of 
having shown both discrimination and industry in 
the gratification of his appetite; so much so that his 
name has passed into a synonym for an accom- 
plished epicure. After spending about £800,000 
on his palate be balanced his books, and finding 



that he had not much more than £80,000 left, hang- 
ed himself to avoid living upon such a pittance 
Lcmpriere's version is that he made a mistake in 
casting up his books, and hanged himse'f under a 
false impaession of insolvency. A noted betting 
man named Smith made a similar mistake in casting 
up his book for the Derby, and flung himself into 
the sea- He was fished out, discovered the mistake 
and ever since went by the name of Neptune Smith. 
Apicius unluckily had no kind friend to cut him 
down. The outrageous absurdities of Elagabalus 
equaled or surpassed those of Caligula and Nero. 
He fed the officers of his palace with the brains of 
pheasants and thrushes, the eggs of partridges, and 
the heads of parrots. Among the dishes served at 
his own table were peas mashed with grains of gold, 
beans fricasseed with morsels of amber, and rice 
mixed with pearls. His meals were frequently com- 
posed of twenty-two services. Turning roofs threw 
flowers with such profusion on the guests that they 
were nearly smothered. At the sea-side he never 
ate fish, but when far inland he caused the roe of 
the rarest to be distributed among his suite. He 
was the first Roman who ever wore a complete dress 
of silk. His shoes glittered with rubies and emer- 
alds, and his chariots were of gold, inlaid with 
precious stones. With a view to becoming suicide, 
he had cords of purple silk, poisons inclosed in 
emeralds, and richly set daggers; but either his 
courage failed when the moment arrived for choos- 
ing between these elegant instruments of death, or 
no time was left him for the choice. He was killed 
in an insurrection of the soldiery in the eighteenth 
year of his age, after a reign of nearly four years, 
during which the Roman people had endured the 
insane and degrading tyranny of a boy. 



The first rose of spring — the shad's. 



The guests have dined, and the host hands 
round a case of cigars. "I dou't smoke myself," 
he says. "but you will find them good ; my man 
steals more of them than any other brand I ever 
had." 



Ben. Butler is one of the biggest eaters that visit 
the Fifth Avenue Hotel. He devours an enormous 
quantity of meat, vegetables, milk, coffee, salads 
and sweets. A chicken disappears before him as 
though he was a Methodist preacher and it was a 
partridge. He doesn't affect wines. At his home 
he has several varieties upon his table, but he 
drinks only about a tumblerful of sherry. If he 
wants a drink he takes a glass of Jamaica rum, or 
the statesman's drink, brandy. He eats four meals 
a day, and is never troubled with indigestion. He 
smokes cigars that are strong enough to knock a 
marine over. Yet he prides himself upon his tem- 
perate life, to which he traces his prosperity. 



TABLE ETIQUETTE 



Use of the Napkin and Finger-Bowl. 

(bnrnmine Boomerang.) 

It lias oeen slated, and very truly too, that the 
law of the napkin is but vaguely understood, It 
mtiy he said however, on the start, that custom and 
good breeding have uttered the decree that it is in 
execeding'y poor taste to put the napkin in the 
pocket and carry it away. 

The rule of etiquette is becoming more and 
more thoroughly established, that the napkin 
should he left at the house of the host or hostes 
after dinner. 

There has been a good deal of discussion, also 
upon the matter of folding the napkin after dinner, 
and whether it should he so disposed of or negli- 
gently tossed into the gravy boat. If however, it 
can he folded easily, and without attracting too 
much attention and prolonging the session for 
several hour , it should be so arranged, and placed 
beside the plate, where it may easily be found by 
the hostess, and returned ti her neighbor from 
whom she borrowed it for the occasion. If how- 
ever the lady of the house is not doing her own 
work, the napkin may be carefully jammed into a 
globular wad and fired under the table [to convey 
the idea of utter recklessness and pampered 
abandon. 

The use of the finger bowl is also a subj ect of much 
importance to the ban ton guest who gorges himself 
at the expense of his friends. 

The custom of drinking out of the finger bowl 
though not entirely obsolete, has been limited to the 
extent that good breeding does not permit the guest 
to quaff the water fiom the finger-bowl unless he 
does so prior to using it as a finger-bowl. 

Thus, it will be seen that social enstoma are 
slowly but surely cutting down and circumscribing 
the rights and privileges of the masses. 

At the court of Eugenie the customs of the table 
were very rigid, and the most prominent guest of 
II. R. II. was liable to getjthe G. B. if he spread 
his napkin on his lap and cut his eggs in two with a 
carving knife, The custom was that the napkin 
should be hung on one knee, and the egg busted at 
the big end and scooped out with a spoon. 

A prominent American at his table one day, in 
an unguarded moment shattered the shell of a soft 
boiled egg with his knife, and while prying it apart 
both thumbs were erroneously jammed into the true 
inwardness of the fruit with so much momentum 
that juice took him in the eye, thus blinding 
him and maddening him to such a degree that he 
got up and threw the remains into the bosom of the 
hired man plenipotentiary, who stood near the table 



scratching his ear with the tray. As may readily be 
supposed, there wasapainfulinterim, during which 
it was hard to tell for five or six minutes whether 
the prominent American or the hired man would 
come out on top, but at last the prominent Ameri- 
can with the egg in his eye got the ear of the bigh- 
priced hired man in among his back teeth, and the 
honor of our beloved flag was vindicated. 



A Bevolution in Carving 

(Bill Nye's Boomerang) 

Speaking about carving there is a prospect now 
that in our best circles, within a short time, the old 
custom of making the host demolish the kiln dried 
poultry at dinner will become extent, and that a 
servant at a sideboard will take a hand saw and a 
can of nitro-glycerine and shatter the remainsi 
thus giving a host a chance to chat with his 
guests instead of spattering them with dress, 
ing, and casting gloom and gravy over the com. 
pany. 

This is a move for which I have long contended- 
It p'aces the manual labor of a dinner where it be- 
longs, and relieves a man who should give his 
whole attention to the entertainment of his friends 
at table. You would not expect your host to take 
off his coat and kill the fowl in your presence, in 
order to Bhow you that it was all on the square, 
and it is not customary to require the proprietor 
to peel the potatoes at the table of his guest, to provt 
that there is no put up job about it. 

Therefore, I claim that the lamented hen may be 
thoroughly shattered at a side table by an athlete 
at $4 per week, and still good taith toward the 
guests be maintained. If any one be douubtful or 
suspicious, etiqnette will permit him to stand by 
the side of the hireling carver and witness the in 
quest. Still it would be better fnn for him to sit 
at the table, and if the parts given him are not sat- 
isfactory, he can put them in his overshoes pro- 
tem and casually throw them out the back door 
while the other guests are listening to the "Maid- 
en's Prayer" in the parlor. 

Under the new deal the host will enjoy the din- 
ner much more than he used to with his thumb iu' 
off and a quart of dressing on his lap. No man 
feels perfectly at homo if he has to wrap up his 
cut finger in a rag and then scoop a handful ot 
dressing out of his vest pocket. Few men are cool 
enough to do this, laughing heartily all the time 
and telling some mirth provoking anecdote mean- 
while. 

It is also annoying to have twenty guests ask for 
the "dark meat, please," when there are only 
three animals cooked, and neither one of them had 
a particle of dark meat about her person. Lately 



I have adopted the plan of segregating the fowl by 
main strength, using the fingers when necessary, 
and then wiping them in an off hand manner on 
the table-cloth. Then I ask the servant to bring 
in that dark hen we ordered, so that we migh*- 
have an adundance of dark meat. If the servant 
says there is none, I smile and tell the guests that 
the brunette chicken, by some oversight, has been 
eaten in the kitchen, and I shall have to give them 
such relics as may be at hand. This simplifies the 
matter, and places me in a far more agreeable p'ac e 
relative to the company. My great success how. 
ever in carving, is mainly confined to the water- 
melon. The watermelon does not confuse me. I 
always know how to find the joints, and those who 
do not like the inside of the melon can have the 
outside. Now, my great trouble with fowls is, that 
one day I have Nebraska chicken, and the next trip 
I have to assainate a Mormon Shanghai pullet, 
with high, expressive hip bones and amalgam pale- 
tot. This makes me nervous, because they are so 
dissimilar and their joints are in different places- 

The Mormon hen is round shouldered, and her col" 
lar bone is more on the bias than the Nebraska 
fowl. This gives a totally different expression to her 
features in death, and, as I have said, destroys 
the symmetry of the carve. 

I began my education in this line by carviug but- 
ter in hot weather, and gradually led up to qnail 
on toast. In carving the quail, first mortgage 
your home and get the quail. The quail should be 
cooked before carving, but not until the chronome 
ter balance and other organs have been removed. 
Place your quail on the toast in a sitting position, 
then, passing the dissecting knife down between the 
shoulder blades, bisect the polonaise. 

Another method is to take the quail by the hind- 
leg and eat it asking the guests to do the same, 
this breaks up the feeling of stiffness that is apt to 
prevail at a formal dinner party, and, while each 
one has his or her nose immersed in quail, good 
feeling cannot fail to show itself. 



An Essay on Roller Skates 



[Laramie Boomerang.] 

The roller skate is a wayward little quadruped. 
It is as frolicsome and more innocent looking than 
a lamb, but for interfering with one's upright atti- 
in the community, it is, perhaps, the best machine 
that has appeared in Salt Lake eity. 

One'sjfirst feeling upon standing on apair of roller 
skates is an uncontrollable tendency to come from 
together. One foot may sUrt out toward Idaho, 
while the other as promptly starts for Arizona. 
The legs do not stand by each other as legs related 
by blood ihould do, but each shows a disposition 



to set up in business alone, and have you take 
care of yourself as best you may. The awkwardnes-s 
of this arrangement is apparent, while they are 
setting up independently, there is nothing 
for you to do but sit down and await future devel- 
opments. And you have to sit down, too, without 
having made any previous preparation for it, and 
without having devoted as much thought to it as 
you might have done had you been consulted in the 
matter. 

One of the most noticeable things at a skating rink 
is the strong attachment between the human body 
and floor of the rink. If the human body had 
been coming through space for days and days, at the 
rate of a million miles a second, without stopping ai 
eating stations, and not excepting Sundays, when 
it strikes the floor, we could understand why it 
struck the floor with so much violence. As it is 
however, the thing is inexplicable. 

There are different kinds of falls in vogue at the 
rink. There are the rear falls, and the front falls, 
and the Cardinal Wolsey fall, the fall one across 
the other, three in a pile and so on. There arc 
some of the falls I would like to be excused from 
describing. The rear fall is the favorite. It is 
more frequently utilized than any other. There 
are two positions in skating, the perpendicular and 
the horizontal. Advanced skaters prefer the per- 
pendicular, while others affect the horizontal. 

Skates are no respecters of persons. They will lay 
out a minister of the Gospel, or the mayor of the 
city, as readily as they will a short coated, one sus- 
pender boy or a giddy girl. 

When one of a man's feet start for Nevada, and 
the other for Colorado, that does not separate him 
from the floor or break up his fun. Other portions 
of his body take the place his feet have just vacated 
with a promptness that is surprising, And he will 
find that the fun has just begun — for the people 
looking on. 

The equipment for the rink, are a pair of skates, 
a cushion, and a bottle of liniment. 



"How do you like my waffles?" asked a society 
belle of her guest. "Could not be nicer," was Ihe 
reply. "Did you really make these yourself." 
"Oh, yes, indeed, I read off the recipe to the cook 
and turned the patent flour sifter all by my 
self." 

Mistress to new cook — "On Wednesdays and 
Saturdays I shall go to market with you." New 
cook — "Very well mum; but who's a going to carry 
the basket the other days?" 



A New York plumber is said to have died from 
overwork. It is terribly hard on a man to hug 
the cook and solder a sink spout at the same 
time. 



SCRAPS ABOUT COOKS. 



An Opening for Young Men. 

Daily National Ilotel Reporter. 

So many of the avenues opening to voting men 
are so completely filled and even overcrowded that 
it behooves thinking people to find new paths by 
which those approaching manhood, in the country 
uud city, may finally reach a competency and per- 
haps something more. The "National Hotel Re- 
porter" believes it can point out such a path, and 
one, too, that is comparatively untrodden. The path 
in which we refer leads to the hotel kitchen, and 
the position which is sure to yield a comfortable and 
satisfactory income is that of chef or head cook. It 
is a position which rarely pays less than $50 per 
mouth and often double and treble that sum. In 
addition to this amount of cash received, the cook 
also has his "living" which, at a low estimate, gives 
him an income ranging from $70 to $200 per month, 
according to the skill and ability of the man em- 
ployed. The "Reporter is sorry to make such a 
statement, but it is a fact that the majority of hotel 
cooks are worthless, unreliable, ignorant and given 
to dissipation. And yet those of them who are at 
all skillful can always find permanent employment 
at remunerative wages. Does not the hotel kitchen, 
then, offer rare inducements for young men, to edu- 
cate themselves (beginning, of course, like all true 
students, at the lower rounds of the ladder) to fill 
the honorable position of master of the range? The 
subject is one which we earnestly commend to young 
men about, to select a means of livelihood, and also 
to those practical hotel keepers who see that,sooner 
or later, something must be done to improve the 
character and standing of their kitchen forces. 



They have at one of the leading restaurants in 
Paris a Chinese cook whose sole and exclusive duty 
it is to cook rice. It is claimed that he can pre- 
pare and serve it in two or three dozen different 
styles, and when Lord Lyons gives dinner parties 
he hires this culinary Chinaman for the special 
purpose of cooking a dish of curry and rice that is 
described as delicious. 



The Union Universelle pour le Progres de 1' Art 
Culinaire has just given a curious fete at the Palace 
theatre. After dancing had been vigorously carried 
on for some time a plentiful supper was spread on 
a number of large tables; no less than nineteen 
plats appeared in succession, each bearing the 
name of some distinguished cook, their inventor. 
\I. Monselet presided, and among the numerous 
witticisms delivered by him perhaps the chef 
•Toeuvre was an eulogium on a lobster, ingeniously 
prepared a la Belleville by "M. Mention," The 



prize, a gold medal, was subsequently decreed to 
M, Emile Vassant, chef to Baron Erlanger, for a 
poularde a la Anglaise, and the second to M. Bene, 
for his Monde des Oiseaux a la Toussenel. The 
third prize fell to M. Escoffier, the talented chef of 
the restaurant Castiglione, for a chaufroid d'alou- 
ettes, and M. Kaugenciser received a prize for a 
pain de foie gras. 



Genius in the Kitchen. 

Hartford Times. 

Anot'jer branch of the subject which comes up 
yearly at the cooks' ball for discussion by the gour- 
mands is the degree of ingenuity displayed by dif- 
ferent famous cooks in devising new dishes and 
menus wherewith to tickle jaded palates. It is con- 
sidered that for originality the palm should go to 
the chef of the French Rothschilds, whose patron 
in Christmas week, 1870, invited a select party of 
friends to the following dinner: 

Hors D' oeuvres 
Butter Radishes Sardines Ass's head, stuffed 

Potages. 
Puree of beans aux croutons Elephant consomme 

Entrees. 
Fried gudgeons Roast camel a la Anglaise 

Civet of kangaroo Roast ribs of bear 

Rotis 
Haunch of wolf, venison sauce Cat with rats 

Water-cress-salaa 
Antelope pie, truffled Petits pois au beurre 

Rice-cakes with preserves 
Gruyere cheese 
Wines 
Xeres Chateau Mouton Rothschild 

Latour blanche, 1861 Rornancee Contil, 1853 
Chateau Palmer, 1860 Bollinger frappe 
orto, 1827 
Cafe et liqueurs 
This dinner cost the Rothschild's chef three 
mouths' preparation, besides writing and telegraph- 
ing to the different parts of the world, and in money 
$400 a cover. 

New York has 430 cooks who are members of the 
"Soeiete Culinaire." M. Fere, chef of the Astor 
House, is the manager of the American branch of 
the association, and the others are: Drolu, chef to 
the King of Spain; Bohers, chef of the St. James 
Club, London, and Favre, of the Central Ilotel, 
Berlin. The official paper is published at Geneva, 
Switzerland. 



The chef of the Chinese Embassy in Paris has in- 
troduced baked ice as a gastronomic novelty and 
gives for it the following receipe: "Make your ice 



very fine; roll out some light paste thin and cut 
into small squares; place a spoonful of ice in the cen- 
tre of each piece of paste and fold it up closely, so 
that no ail may get in, and bake in a quick oven 
The paste will be cooked before the ice can melt. 



Queen Victoria has recently received from the 
London Cooks' Company a beautiful plaque ot ham- 
mered silver, which the Lord Steward of Bucking- 
ham has acknowledged for her in a gracefully ex- 
pressed communication. 



It was at the petils soupers de Ohoiey of Louis XV. 
that the tables eolantct were first introduced. Those 
'admirable pieces of mechanism," as they are call- 
ed by a distinguished gastronome, the poet Rogers, 
consisted of a table and sideboard, which, at a sig- 
nal, descended through the floor, to be immedi- 
ately replaced by others which rose covered with 
a fresh course. 

His singular proficiency in the art of cookery, 
one of the few redeeming features in this worthless 
monarch's character, was derived, like his taste 
for working tapestry, from his youthful compan- 
ions, the Dukes of Epernon and La Tremouille and 
De Gesvres. 



But for the reign of Louis XVIII. being so recent, 
our author would probably have referred to his 
qualities as a gastronome. In these he as certainly 
equalled Louis the Magnificent and his worthless 
successor, as he surpassed them intellectually and 
morally. His most famous muitre d'holel was the 
Due d'Escars, of whom a Quarterly Reviewer says 
that, when he and his royal master were closeted 
together to meditate a dish, the Ministers of State 
were kept waiting in the antechamber, and the 
next day the official announcement regularly ap- 
peared — "it/, le Due d'Escars a travaillc dans le 
cabinet." 

The king had invented the truffes a la puree (Tor- 
tolans, and invariably prepared it himself, assisted 
by the duke. On one occasion they had jointly 
composed a dish of more than ordinary dimensions, 
and duly consumed the whole of it. In the middle 
of the night the duke was seized with a fit of indi- 
gestion, and his case was declared hopeless; loyal 
to the last, he ordered an attendant to wake and 
inform the king, who might be exposed to a similar 
attack. His majesty was roused accordingly and 
told that d'Escars was dying of his invention. 
"Dying!" exclaimed Louis le Desire; "dying of my 
truffes a la puree" 1 . I was right then; I always said 
that I had the better stomach of the two." 



Money is a good thing, even to a cook, but it is 
not the chief thing in life — to a cook. The famous 
Careme, the friend of princes, who boasted that the 
fate of Europe often depended upon the kind of 



sauces he served up at political banquets, died in 
1833, before he had attained his fittielh year — 
killed by bis passion for work "The charcoal kills 
us," he said, "hut what does that matter? The 
fewer yeSrs, the greater glory." Careme was not 
a man to care for money, and the world is fortu- 
nate in having some disciples worthy of him. 



Parlor Cookery. 

Harper's Bazar. 

Another set, less lofty, have descended to the 
kitchen, and call themselves the "Pancake Club." 
This club aims at the mastery of the culinary art, 
and its batterie de cuisine is indeed formidable.' There 
are silver chafing dishes, faultless trivels, and alco- 
hol lamps enough to sin ; a Monitor at least. These 
amateur Brillat-Savarins aim at breakfast-table and 
supper cookery, the oysters, kidneys and deviled 
turkey being all cooked on the table. The idea is 
that a theatre party shall, after enjoying the play, 
come home aud cook their own supper. Also the 
breakfast for the early bird who must be down-town 
to catch the Wall Street worm — this hasty meal 
shall be cooked for him by a loving wife or daugh- 
ter on a silver chafing-dish or heater before his 
eyes. This is an admirable idea. These noble 
girls mean to learn how to make the most delicious 
Persian coffe, to attack even the kitchen range, and 
to make all the pancakes possible, to realize that 
title "dainty dishes" to its fullest extent. Of course 
one evening a week they appear in costume — white 
apron and cap — and treat their admirers to a sup- 
per all cooked by themselves. 



The Lady Amateur Cook. 

Cook's Letter to a Friend. 

Our Lady Amabel she've took lessons, so as to 
help us in the cooking. One day down she comes 
to make a apple pie. I'd made the paste ready for 
'er to roll and buttered the dish, and Jane had 
peeled the apples, and John and Robert stood over 
'er with the things, and 'Liza had hot water for 'er 
to wash 'er hands in when she'd done. So it was 
a nice "help," you may be sure ! Hows' ever, she 
did it, and I baked it; and upstairs they all said as 
there' d never bin known sich a pie — tho' it was as 
sour as warjuice, for, lor', if she hadn't forgot to 
put in the shuggar ! 



A great cook is a great man. For instance Fere, 
of the Astor House, is an aristocrat in his domin- 
ions, and when away from his fires lives in excel- 
lent style upon a salary of $4,000 a year. One of 
his sons is a promising young artist engaged upon 
the "Graphic" in this city. Fere's position requires 



a knowledge of accounts as well as of cookery. He 
has to study economy, the prices in the markets, 
study out new dishes, and keep an eye upon his 
twelve cooks, eighteen assistants and ten carvers. 
His work begins at 6 o'clock in the morning and 
ends ai 7 in the evening, and during that time he 
overseers the preparation of food for 3,000 persons. 
M. Fere's secretary is a real count, de Moiseau by 
name, who has been naturalized and has no other 
ambition than to make the Astor House table the 
best in the country.— Cor. Hartford Times. 



Cooke of the Olden Days. 

The cook of the middle ages was a lordly autocrat, 
and his scepter, a long wooden spoon, was also used 
as a means of punishment. Brillat-Savarin tells 
this story: 

An Italian prince, who had a Sicilian cook of 
great excellence — the cooks of Sicily were famous 
eveu in the days of ancient Rome — was once travel- 
ing to his provincial estates, taking with him his 
entire batterie de cuisine and his Sicilian cook. At 
a point where the narrow path along the precipice 
turned the angle of a projecting rock, the prince, at 
the head of his long cavalcade, heard a shriek and 
the splash of a body falling into the torrent far be- 
low. With a face white with terror, he pulled up, 
and, looking back, cxclaimsd: 

"The cook ! the cook ! Holy Virgin, the cook !" 

"No, your Excellency," cried a voice from the 
rear; "it is Don Prosdocimo !" 

The Prince heaved asigh of profound relief. "Ah! 
only the chaplain!" said he. "Heaven be thanked!" 



French Cooking. 

At the beginning of the sixteenth century, Eng- 
lishmen and Frenchmen were on a parity of capac- 
ity as cooks Ferhaps, as having finer meats, Eng- 
land slight y surpassed its neighbor, but the char- 
acter of the cuisine of the two countries may be 
accurately appreciated from the description of the 
banquet of Gargantua in Kabelais. Nothing could be 
more abundant or more barbarously coarse than 
that monstrous feast. It was Gouthier of Ander- 
nacb, the German physician of Francis I., who 
came to put an end to the reign of culinary barbar- 
ism in France. The great reformer of the French 
kitchen was a Huguenot, and died in 1574 at Stras- 
burg, an exile from the land for whose digestion he 
had done so much; but the seed which he had sown 
bore good fruit, and its cultivation was continued 
by that admirable cook, Catherine de Medicis, who 
had brought with her from Italy the best traditions 
of the Florentine cuisine, next to the Roman the 
grandest in Europe. There were then formed in 
Paris two companies of cooks — the cooks proper and 
the patissiers, but in 1770 the two guilds were unit- 
ed by a deeree of Parliament as the jurande and 



uiaitrisse of the Queen, an old Gallic word signify- 
ing cooks. It was from this fact that France dates 
her supremacy in the restorative art. 



An Ingenious Cook. 

Near, in the opinion of the Greek poet Euphron, 
are the poet and the cook, Both, he says, attain by 
an ingenious audacity the apex of their art. And 
to show the intellectual daring of the cook, he tells 
the following story: Nicomedes, the great King of 
Bithyuia, being once on a time some twelve days' 
journey from the sea, had a sudden longing for a 
loach. Some lexicographers explain the word used 
by Enphron as "smelt," but the general consensus 
is in favor of the former interpretation. His cook 
served him in twenty minutes this very fish. Every- 
body wondered, for the season, to add to the diffi- 
culty of the exploit, chanced to be midwinter. It is 
said that once while Selden sat in the assembly of 
divines at Westminster,a warm debate arose about 
the distance from Jericho to Jerusalem. Those who 
contended for the longer distance were about to 
yield to the argument of their adversaries that fishes 
were carrried from one city to the other, when the 
celebrated lawyer cried out, "Perhaps the fishes 
were salted," upon which the dispute was renewed 
with increased vigor. But the loach in the present 
case was quite fresh. How then was it procured? 

French cooks can, it is well known, make a de- 
licious soup out ot an old shoe, but the curious de- 
vice of the cook of Nicomedes will be found equally 
clever. He took a turnip and cut it into the figure 
of a loach. He then boiled it gently over a slow fire, 
added a certain quantity of oil and salt — not that 
indefinite amount familiar to us in modern cookery 
bcoks as a "pinch," but measured with exact and 
learned discrimination — and completed the dish by 
the sprinkling of a dozen grains of black pepper. 
Nicomedes, devouring the disguised turnip with a 
good appetite, told his friend that it was the finest 
loach he ever ate in his life. 



Concerning a subject upon which the "National 
Hotel Reporter" has had considerable to say of late, 
the New York "Graphic" of recent date prints the 
following well chosen words: The best hotel cooks 
in New York are French, generally from Alsace. They 
get from $150 to $200 per month, and in a few cases 
more. This includes board and wine. They learn 
their business in Paris, and are often men of more 
than ordinary intelligence and education. They have 
at command an array of French culinary authorities 
to which, in cases requiring reference, they turn, 
as does the lawyer to his "old masters." No young 
American enters regularly on the "profession" of a 
cook. He is "above it,"and generally such profession 
is above him. He had rather try to be a lawyer and 
end be becoming a lawyer's assistant at some name- 
less price per week, not inclusive of board and wine. 



SCRAPS ABOUT LANDLORDS AND 
HOTELS. 



Carving the Goose. 

Oliver Wendell HolraeB 

Were this a pulpit, I should doubtless preach, 

Were this a platform, I should gravely teach, 

but to no solemn duties I pretend 

In my vocation at the table's end, 

So, as my answer, let me tell instead 

What Landlord Porter — rest his soul — once said. 

A feast it was that none might scorn to share ; 
Cambridge and Concord's demigods were there — 
"And who were they?" You know as will as I 
The stars long glittering in our Eastern sky — 
The names that blazon our provincial scroll 
King round the world with Britain's drumbeat roll. 
Good was the dinner, better was the talk ; 
Some whispered, devious was the homeward wa'k; 
The story came from some reporting spy, 
They lie, those fellows — 0, how they do lie ! 
Not ours those foot-tracks in the new fallen snow — 
Poets and sages never zig zagged so. 

Now Landlord Porter, grave cencise, severe, 

Master, nay monarch in his proper sphere, 

Though to belles- lettres he pretended not, 

Lived close to Harvard, so know what was what, 

And having bards, philosophers, and such 

To eat his dinner, put the finest touch 

His art could teach, those learned mouths to fill 

With the best proofs of gustatory skill, 

And finding wisdom plenty at his board, 

Wit, science, learning, all his guests had stored 

By way of contrast, ventured to produce 

To please their palates, an inviting goose 

Better it were the compa y should starve 

Than hands unskilled that goose attempt to carve; 

None but the master artist shall assail 

The bird that turns the mightiest surgeon pale, 

One voice arises from the banquet hall — 
The landlord answers to the pleading call ; 
Of stature tall, sublime of port, he stands. 
His bladeand trident gleaming in his hands ; 
Beneath his glance the strong-knit joints relax 
As the weak knees before the headsman's ax. 

And Landlord Porter lifts his glit'ering knife 
As some stout warrior armed for bloody strife ; 
All eyes are on him , some in whispers ask 
What man is that who dares this dangerous task? 
When, lo! the triumph of consummate art. 
With scarce a touch the creature drops apart. 
As when the baby in his nurse's lap 
Spills on the carpet a dessected map. 



Then the calm sage, the monarch of the lyre, 
Critics and men ot science, all admire 
And one whose wisdom I will not impeach, 
Lively, not churlish, somewhat free of speech, 
Speaks thus : "Say, master, what ot worth is left 
In birds like this, of breast and legs bereft?" 

And Land'ord Porter, with uplifted eyes, 
Smiles on the simple querist, and replies 
"When from a goose you've taken legs and breast, 
Wipe lips, thank God, and leave the poor the rest. 



When the world was younger, snys the New York 
Graphic, and this city was younger and smaller 
than now, hotel landlords were more primitive in 
their ways, and used to sit at the heads of their 
own tables and carve the breakfast beefsteaks. 
When Warren Leland so carved at the old Clintou 
Hotel there used to put up at his house a rich, old 
and penurious oouutry merchant, whose stinginess 
at home had earned him the reputation of "count- 
ing the potatoes that went into the pot for dinner." 
And this worthy would always manage to obtain a 
seat at Warren's elbow. "Mr. Leland," he would 
observe on seating himself at the brea fast table, 
"I slept very well last night — very well, indeed. I 
am not at all particular where I sleep. I cuu put 
up with most any sort of a room— but, Mr. Leland, 
will you oblige me with a bit of steak cut there - 
just there?" and with fhis he would delicately 
touch with the end of his table knife the central 
and most juicy and tenderest portion of the ten- 
derloin brought hot to the table. And this he 
would eat with well-timed deliberation, so as lo 
finish just as the next relay of tenderloin was 
brought on, when he would again remark : "Mr. 
Leland, your beds are very fine, indeed. Tmnota 
all particular where 1 sleep, but would you oblige 
me with another steak, just there?" and again the 
tip of his knife would hover over the steak where 
jt cut the easiest and was most tempting. And so 
on until the end of the breakfast and chapter. 
Warren Leland, Sr. now tells the story with artis- 
tic gusto and humor. 



The Delaware river method, of planking shad is 
as follows : Scale the fish, split it open down the 
back, carefully remove the roe and entrails and 
wash and dry it with a cloth. Then spread it on 
its back and fasten it with two or three nails upon 
a hie ory plank thoroughly hot. Of course but 
one side of the fish is exposed to the fire, the heat 
of the plan'< cooking the other. Set the plank and 
f.sh at an angle of forty-five degrees before a clear 
hot fire of live coals and bake it to a rich brown 
color, basting it every litt'e while by means of a soft 
brushwith a thin mixture of melted butteran flour. 
When done serve it upon the plank on which u was 
cooked : send plank and all to the table In the 



meantime the roe should be parboiled, then egged, 
rolled in cracker dust or bread crumbs and fried 
aud sent to table with the fish. Housekeepers can 
olilain the planks ready made and fitted with wire 
fastenings for planking shad at the house-furnish" 
ing warehouses. This is the way to broil a shad : 
Clean, wash and split the shad, wipe it dry, and 
sprinkle it with salt and pepper. Rub a double 
wire broiler with suet or other fat, place the fish 
upon it, and put it over a clear fire and broil it to a 
golden brown color. Then place it on a hot dish 
aud pour plain melted butter over it, seasoned with 
salt aud pepper. This is a delightfully appetizing 
dish for breakfast. 

If broiling be for any reason impossible, a shad 
may be fried, thu?: Clean, wash and split the shad 
in two, then cut each half crosswise into three 
parts, season well with pepper and salt and dredge 
I hem with flour. Have your frying material smok. 
ing hot, lay in your pieces of fish and fry them to a 
nice golden brown, drain and lay them on a ho t 
dish, pour plain melted butter over them and serve 
piping hot. 



The news that "The Cock," in Fleet Street, Lon. 
don, is to be demolished announces the disappear- 
ance of the resorts which are intimately associated 
with the characteristic life of London for centuries, 
and with the most famous names in English litera" 
ture and hislory. Many a pilgrim to London 
would hasten first of all to the site of the old Tabard 
Inn in Southwark, and search curiously for some 
trace of Dame Quickly's tavern in Eastcheap, or 
Beaumont and Jonson's "Mermaid," or Dryden's 
"Buttons," or Dr. Johnson's "Mitre." London 
indeed, swarms with taverns and clubs and resort s 
so intimately identified with the most interesting 
traditions that old London itself vanishes as they 
disappear. 

"The Cock," of which there is a characteristic 
picture upon another page, is not only rich in old 
reminiscence — for it was unaltered since the days 
of James I , and Pepys made merry there in 1668 
— but it has acquired fresh charm in recent times 
from Tennyson's "Will Waterproofs Monologue," 
in which that thoughtful roisterer apostrophizes 
the "plump head waiter of the Cock." In Dicken's 
Life and Letters there is the same friendly feeling 
for the tavern as a seat of good fellowship. Thack- 
eray is never more charming than when he is play, 
fully gossiping or moralizing about the good places 
for good dinners, and when he was in this country, 
he was never more at home than when, at the 
"Century," he was seated with his cigar and his 
"modest glass," ruling with gentle sway, like Ad- 
dison with his pipe, in his familiar realm. 

Such associations as those of the famous London 
resorts of wits and poets and statesmen and schol- 
ars are of great value to any city. As they disap- 



pear the city is robbed of an influence which, al- 
though a mere sentiment, is most elevating and 
persuasive. The universil instinct of men which 
bnilds monuments and other memorials of the fa- 
mous dead, the heroes and patriots, the poets and 
story-tellers and orators, is a.in to that which 
fondly cherishes the material objects with which 
they were associated, and preserves their auto- 
graphs and every personal relic. New York has 
retained very few buildings which have any strik- 
ing or interesting connection with the past. The 
most interesting of them is probably Fraunces' 
Tavern, at the corner of Broad and Pearl streets, 
where Washington parted with his officers. But 
although London still teems with them, even Lon- 
don will have lost a charm which no splendor of 
architecture or convenience of building can restore, 
when the most famous "Cock" in the world is gone 
forever. — Harpers Weekly. 



Mr. Abner C. Mcllrath, who kept a famous ho- 
tel for thirty-six years, six miles from Cleveland on 
Euclid avenue, has been gathered to his stalwart 
fathers. He was a mighty fox hunter and a re- 
markable athlete. Six feet six inches and a half 
tall, his average weight was about 264 pounds, but 
yet he is said to have frequently on foot run down 
foxes. He once lifted with his hands from the 
ground an iron shaft weighing 1,700 pounds, which 
would be equal to lifting double that weight were 
he harnessed with straps to weights and allowed to 
lift under the best advantage. Two men would 
hold a string two inches above his head, and he 
would step back two or three steps and jump over 
it without touching it, making the leap about six 
feet nine inches in height. He has been known, 
jather than to lead his horses around lo the other 
side of the barn, to put his long arms under a horse 
and lift it up to the floor of the barn, which hap- 
pened to be three or four feet above the ground. In 
Buffalo he once wrestled with and threw with ease 
Charlie Freeman, the "American giant," who after- 
ward in England defeated "Tipton Slasher" in a 
prizefight. Another feat of the hotel keeper was 
his chase on horseback of a fox one December over 
frozen Lake Erie far from sight of land. He lived 
to the age of seventy years, having been a paralyfic 
for four years of life as a result of exposure during 
a fox hunt. He was borne to the grave Saturday 
by six of his Ull sons, four of whom are six feet 
four and a half inches high and the other two just 
six feet, and whose combined weight is 1,305 
pounds. 

At most Italian restaurants on the authority of 
the London Caterer, cotellettes milanese, consisting 
only of a veal chop or cutlet encrusted with bread 
crumbs and egg, with the traditional quarter of 
lemon to stimulate the palate, is a standing dish- 



SCRAPS ABOUT DINNERS. 

A President's Dinner 

To return to Washington's dinner, the writer of 
the description continues: "Fir9t was soup, fish, 
roasted and boiled meats, gammon, fowls, etc. This 
was the dinner. The middle of the table was gar- 
nished in the usual tasty way with small images, 
flowers (artificial), etc. The dessert was first apple 
pies, puddings, etc.; then iced creams, jellies, etc.; 
then watermelons, muskmelons, apples, peaches, 
nuts. It was the most solemn dinner I ever sat at," 
continues Maclay. "Not a health drank, scarce a 
word said, until the cloth was taken away. Then 
the President, taking a glass of wine, with great 
formality drank the health of every individual by 
name 'round the table. Everybody imitated him — 
charged glasses, and such a buzz of 'health, sir,' 
and 'health, madam,' and 'thank you, sir,' and 
'thank you, madam,' never had I heard before. 

"The ladies sat a good whileaud the bottle passed 
about, but there was a dead silence almost. Mrs. 
Washington at last withdrew with tho ladies. I 
expected the men would begin, but the same still- 
ness remained. The President told of a New Eng- 
land clergyman who had lost a hat and wig in pass- 
ing a river called the Brunks. He smiled and 
everybody else laughed. He now and then said a 
sentence or two on some common subject, and what 
he said was not amiss. The President kept a fork 
in his hand when the cloth was taken away, I 
thought for the purpose of picking nuts. He ate 
no nuts, but played with the fork, striking on the 
edge of the table with it. We did not sit long after 
the ladies retired. The President rose, went up 
stairs to drink coffee — the company followed." 
This precedent was followed at President Arthur's 
dinners last year. 



Prince Napoleon, while a prisoner at Concier- 
gerie, had his meals from oue of the most illustrious 
restaurateurs in Paris, and they were excellently 
chosen. Oue day when a correspondent called on 
him hehad forbreakfast "ceufs brouilles aux pointes 
d'asperge," mutton cutlets a la Napolitaine, cold 
capon, cheese and grapes. His dinner consisted of 
potage Voisin, fillets of sole, Tournedos (an admir- 
able fillet of beef) and salad. Upon this fare one 
might worry along, even in captivity. 



showing, there are applicants for fellowship await- 
ing the death of present members. 



The New York "Thirteen" Club has lately par- 
taken of its seventh annual dinner. The menu was 
printed on cards cut in the shape of a coffin lid and 
the repast consisted of thirteen dishes. The organ- 
ization has thirteen times thirteen members, the in- 
itiation fee is $13, the monthly dues are 13 cents, 
and, still, despite the awful significance of this 



A Mediaeval Dinner. 

A mediaeval dinner was recently given in Basle 
in honor of the mediajval collection in that cily, and 
to augment its funds. The guests, 120 in number, 
were summoned by the blare of trumpets to the 
table which was splendid with old plate and drink- 
ing vessels loaned by the venerable guilds of the 
city. The first course was beer soup of the middle 
ages, and the last was "gofren" and "aenisbrod," 
baked after the models exhibited in early German 
pictures. Wine of the middle ages was not to be 
had, but a loving cup of Markgrafter of the vintage 
of 1715 was sent round the table. Two pianofortes 
made in the years 1720 and 1750, furnished the ac- 
companiments to the song9 in a tone "remarkably 
thin, but at the same time exceedingly tender and 
refined. 1 ' The guests wore modern garments, but 
the servants were appropriately dressed, and the 
furniture of the hall and the decorations of the 
table, to the smallest detail, were conscientious re- 
productions of the middle ages. 



A birthday cake with sixty-five tiny candles was 
a table ornament at the dinner to Mr, Evarts on 
Saturday. 



At a dinner party in New York the other evening 
the menu, printed on white satin, came from benealh 
the wings of a tiny swan placed beside the plate of 
each guest. The swans were retained as souvenirs, 
and when their heads were pulled off were found (o 
be intended for match boxes. 



Ice cream was served at a hunt dinner the other 
night in the form of whips, spurs, saddles, caps, 
and other freezing reminders of the Long Island 
hunting field. 

At a recent private dinner served at Kinsley's, 
in Chicago, the ice cream came to the table in the 
form of asparagus stalks and bananas. Cakes 
filled with cream were made to take the form and 
appearance of baked potatoes, and the deception 
was so perfect as to excite the wonder and admir- 
ation of all present. 



For a dinner for eighteen gentlemen on Thurs- 
day, a florist made a centre-basket remarkable for 
its size and display of selected flowers. It was six 
feet in diameter. There were one thousand rich 
roses and a garden of lilacs, violets and other 
spring blossoms. The centre of this piece was a 
circle of lillies — amaryllis, vitata and callas. The 
coat knots were of hyacinth 9prays and roses. The 



same night a dinner for 125 at Delmonico's was 
decorated with roae baskets fringed with fernH. 



At a dinner party recently given in New York 
the menus placed at the plate of each guest cost 
sixty dollars apiece. They were in the form of a 
picture, a beautiful work of art, which could after- 
wards be used as a drawing room ornament. An 
English gentleman, in whose honor the entertain- 
ment was given, spilled some wine over his, which 
ruined it. Not wishing to lose so costly and beau- 
tiful a souvenir, he went to Tiffany's and had a 
duplicate made. 



A Memphis paper says: "The Fontaine german" 
in this city was the biggest affair of the season. The 
supper was very elaborate. The most unique and 
striking feature of the repast was produced on the 
cutting of six grand centre cakes. In each of the 
cakes had been placed six live birds— doves in some, 
in others quail — and on opening them these feather 
ed guests fluttered their wings, and, rising in the 
air, perched on the doors and heavy window sills, 
fr>m which elevated and lofty positions they gazed 
down on the brilliant assemblage. 



It is related of the famous Spanish banker, Don 
Jonede Salamanca, who died recently, that in 1858 
he gave a single dinner that cost $90,000. 

The gallant Colonel Tom Ochiltree of Texas, gave 
a supper to a parly of friends in Washington a few 
nights ago that is said to have cost $500. 



females by women. If any one desires a steak an 
extra charge of ten cents is added. A ticket en- 
titling the owner to as many meals as there are 
numbers on it, is sold, the ticket being punched 
every time a meal is eaten, Breakfast is served at 
seven, dinner from twelve to one, and after that 
hour for head officials; tea at five and supper at 
midnight. If any of the lady employes is taken 
sic t or feels unwell a hot cup of tea is sent down 
from the kitchen, which is on the top floor, and no 
charge whatever is made. The dining room is large, 
thirty by eighty feet, thorough'y clean and located 
on one of the upper floors.— iV. Y. Gastronomer. 

"Ain't this a little high?" asked a timid tender- 
foot of a Deadwood tavern-keeper who had charged 
him $1.50 for his dinner. "It may be a little high,'' 
replied the host, fumbling with the handle of a re- 
volver in the cash drawer; "but I need the money." 
He got it 



Shovel and pick brigade— a party of Americans 
at dinner. 



"George, dear, don't you think it rather extrava- 
gant of you to cat butler, with that delicious 
jam?" "No. love, economical. Same piece of bread 
does for both." 



The dinner of the Standard Collar Club at the 
Hotel Brunswick on Wednesday night was attended 
by thirty gentlemen. The menus were hand painted, 
and cost ten dollars each. The dishes were orna- 
mented with sugar collars, and the bird musical 
dinner favors held collars in their bills. 



Nearly all the large office buildings and bank 8 
down-town have their own restaurants, which are 
presided over by a steward, a chefaad a corps of 
waiters and attendants— but few people have an idea 
how systematically such a department of a great 
institution is managed. Take the Western Union 
Telegraph building as an example. There are more 
than eleven hundred employes ou the pay roll, and 
of these fully eight hundred regularly eat in the 
building. To feed these the meats are put on the 
fire every morning at four o'clock, and when cooked 
are carried to the steam tables. Beef, ham, tongue, 
vegetables, tea, chocolate and milk are the ordinary 
dishes served for dinner, which is charged at cost 
price, ten cents. This meal is served to all— no 
distinction is made from the lowest to the highest 
official of the company. No wine, liquors or ale is 
allowed. The men are waited on by men and the 



Cheyenne society is harrowed up over a question 
of eliquet. People are divided in opinion as to 
which coat sleeve a man should wipe his mouth 
with after eating soup. 

The London Caterer tells of a novelty the golden 
puddiug, which comes on the table as a bag of gold, 
such as is delivered by banks, and upon being 
opened, imitations of money, fruits and confection- 
er" are disclosed 



One of Benjamin Franklin's Dinners. 

A century ago one of the notable ladies in Phila- 
delphia, society was Mrs Mary Ruston, and if proof 
were wanting that the people of those days appre- 
ciated the joys of the table it could be found in her 
receipt book, now owned by Charles M. Penny- 
pac er, one of her descendants. Mrs. Ruston was 
in the habit of recording in this book particulars of 
the elaborate dinners at which she was present. 
Thus it appears that on one occasion Dr. Franklin 
regaled his guests with clam soup, breast of veal 
ragouted, forequarter of roast lamb, four small 
chickens, pigs' feet, a pair of roast ducks, and a 
roast leg of mutton, with numerons vegetables 
served from the sideboard, and filled up the ser- 
vices with a dessert of green currant tarts, jellies, 
truffles, blanc mange, c-anberry tarts, English and 
Swiss cheeses and cheese cakes. 



INDEX. 



The Numbers Refer to the Article, and Not to the Page. 



A half-shell roast, Su 
Andalusian, fish sauce, 93S 
Antelope, 1004 
Apple sauce for meats, 1031 

Bacon and spinach, 1093 
liver, 1 1 25 

breakfast, broiled, 1 1 26 
hog, cutting up a, ion 
Bass, sea, 984 

black, fried, S76 
striped, broiled, 8S3 
with green peas, 927 
Bear meat, 1007 
Beef, cutting up the loin, 9S9 
fore quarter, 994 
round, 995 
roast, rare, 1090 
natural gravy, 1020 
roast, well done, 1021 
rib ends, 1022. 
flank, 1023 
boiled horseradish, 1076 
salt vegetables, 1077 
corned cabbage, 107S 
heart, 1087 
Beefsteak, broiling, 1099 
devilled, mi 
English mushrooms, 1107 
French, 1103 
Hamburg, 1115 
maitre d'hotel, 1104 
Milanaise, n 13 
natural gravy, 1100 
old fashion, 1 101 
porterhouse broiled, 1102 
sauce piquant, 1105 
Spanish, 1109 
with champignons, 1106 
onions, 11 12 
oysters, n 14 
tomatoes, mo 
Black bass, 876 
Bloaters, Yarmouth, 97 i 
Bluefish, baked, 954 
Boiled dinner, New England, 10S0 
Boning and rolling meats, 1025 
Bordelaise sauce, 910 
Boston fancy stew, 827 
Box stew, 815 

fry, S16 
Breading and frying, 872 
Bread stuffing for fish, 942 
for poultry 1060 
sauce brown, 1062 
Broiled chicken, 1132 
oysters stuffed, 813 
crumbed, 831 
on toast, 832 
in bacon, 851 
quail on toast, n 33 



snipe and plover, 11 34 
Brook trout, S65 

boned, with bacon, 816 

fried plain, S69 

breaded, 871 
Brown oyster sauce, 854 
Buffalo. 1009 
Buttered eggs, 1142 
Butter sauce, 916 

common, 917 

Cabbage and corned beef, 107S 

to boil, 1079 
(.'aimed salmon, 975 
Canvasbacks, 1072 
Capersauce, 928 
Capon roast 1056 
Carp, baked plain, 944 
Espagnole, 941 

German, 939 
Cases, oysters in, S47 
Catfish steak, 906 
Celery sauce, brown, 1059 

white, 1092 
Champagne sauce, 1040, 
Cheese omelet, 114S 
Chestnut sauce, 1053 

puree, for turkey, 1054 
Chicken bo led, salt pork, 10S9 
egg sauce, 1090 

broiled, n 32 

Maryland, 1063 

spring roast, 1057 
stuffed, 1061 

liver omelet, 11 50 
Chutney, home-made, 909 
Chowder, clam, 862 

fish, S63 
Chops, pork, 1 1 22 

lamb, green peas, 1121 

mutton, 1 1 17 
Cisco, 895 

potted, 896 
Clam chowder, 862 
soup, 823 

fritters, 859 

without eggs, Sio 

soups, S22 
Clams, fricasseed on toast, 861 

soft shell, 816 

roast, 811 

scalloped in shell, S3S 
Corned Beef and cabbage, 107S 

tongue, boiled, 10S5 
Codfish boiled. 914 

balls, 980 

stuffed, oysters, 95S 

salt, stewed, 9S2 

in cream, 981 
Cooking terrapin, S03 
Crabs, soft shell, boiled, 806 



fried, S07 
Cream sauce, 931 

bechamel, 932 
Cranberry sauce, 1047 

jelly for game, 1048 
Creole beefsteak, 1 109 
Croquettes of potatoes, 946 

small balls, 951 
Crimping fish, 91 1 
Croustades or bread shapes, S49 

of oysters, 850 
Cure hams, to, 1013 
Cutting up a porker, 1010 

bacon hog, ion 

fore quarter, beef, 994 

fowls, 1015 

ham, 1014 

turtle, 1017 

Dauphine potatoes, 948 
Devilled beefsteak, 1 1 1 1 
Dry stew, oysters, t-26 
Duchesse potatoes, 957 
Duck, canvasback, 1072 

domestic, 1064 

mallard, 1073 

redhead, 1072 

teal and butterball, 1074 

wild, common, 1071 

young domestic, 1066 
Dutch sauce, 891 

Easy, broiling of fish, n 31 

Economy of broiled meat-;, 1130 

Eels, 970 

Elk, 1005 

English steak with mush'ms, 1107 

Egg sauce, 936 

Eggs boiled, n 38 

buttered, 1142 

fried, 11 40 

omelets, 1144 

poached, 1 1 39 

scrambled, 1141 

6hirred, 1143 

Fancy roast oysters, 840 

stew, 827 
Fillets of fish, SS9 

white fish, 947 

with quenelle dressing, 960 
Finnan baddies, 976 
Fish, crimped, 91 1 

forcemeat, for, 950 
quenelle, 961 

a Southern way, 963 

a plain bake, 964 

chowder, 863 

sauce royal, 887 
Fowls, to cut up, 1015 
truss, 1016 



ir. 



roast, celery sauce, 1058 
Fresh mushrooms, 1108 

water perch 891 

mackerel. 924 
French beefsteak, 1103 

fried potatoes, 943 
Fricasseed clams, 861 
Fried oysters, without eggs, 809 
single breaded, 829 
double, 830 

parsley, 807 

peas for garnish 940 
Fritters, oyster, 858 

clam, 859 
without eggs, 810 

CJame 

antelope, 1004 

bear, 1007 

buffalo, 1009 

canvasback, 1072 

ducks, common wild, 1071 

elk, 1005 

mallard duck, 1073 

'possum, 1008 

quail, 1133 

Rocky mountain sheep, 1003 

rabbit, 1135 

read-head duck, 1072 

snipe and plover, 1134 

teal and butterball, 1074 

squirrel, 1136 

venison, 1006 

wild goose, 1067 

wild turkey, 1055 
Giblet sauce, 1069 
Goose, domestic, 1064 

wild, roast 1068 
Grayling, 894 

Haddock, boiled, 914 

smoked. 976 
Halibut steak, 904 
Hamburgh steak, 1115 
Ham and eggs, 1124 
boiled, 1086 
to cure, 1013 
to cut up, 1014 
about roasting, 1038 
roast with spinach, 1035 
breaded, 1041 
with wine sauce, 1039 
omelet, 1147 
Herring, lake, 890 
Hollandaise sauce, French, 899 
English, 890 
original, 891 
potatoes, 923 
Honeycomb tripe, broiled, 1128 
Hotel beef and beefsteaks, 987 
broiling, 1098 
turkey and chicken, 1044 

Jelly, cranberry, for game, 1048 

omelet with, 1155 
Jowl and spinach, 1093 

Keep'g meat, to make ten'r, 1096 
Kidneys broiled, 1129 
omelet with, 1149 
Kippered salmon, 975 
Kromeskies, oyster, 857 

Lanib, roast, 1026 

chops with peas, 1121 
cutlets, 1002 
side of, 1001 



Lake herring, 890 
Loaf, oysters in, 848 
Lobster sauce, 934 
Liver and bacon. 1125 

broiled, 1127 
Lyonaise potatoes, 1116 

Macaroni and oysters, 814 
Mackerel, Spanish, broiled, 886 
baked, 949 
fresh, broiled, 888 
boiled, 924 
salt, 971 
Mackinaw trout, 874 

fried in eggs, 875 
Maitre d' hotel sauce, cold, 880 
hot, 925 
Mallard duck, roast, 1073 
Meats, boning and rolling, 1025 
Milk stew, oyster, 824 
Minced potatoes, 868 
Mint sauce, 1027 
Muscallonge, boiled, 927 
Mushrooms, fresh. 1108 
Mustard sauce, 973 
Mutton, cutting up, 999 
chops, broiled, 1117 
dish of, 1118 
English, 1000 
tomato sauce, 1119 
roast, 1024 

boiled, caper sauce, 1081 
side of, 998 

iVew England boiled dinner, 1080 

Omelet, 

with cheese, 1148 
chicken livers, 1150 
ham, 1147 
jelly, 1155 
kidneys, 1149 
onions, 1146 
oysters, 833 
Omelet, with parsley, 1145 
rum, 1154 
tomatoes, 1153 
plain, 1144 
souffles, 1156 
Spanish, 1152 
Onion and parsley omelet, J146 
Oppossum, roast, 1008 
Ox-heart with gravy, 1087 
Oysters, 

box stew, 815 

fry, 816 
broiled in bacon, 851 
crumbed, 831 
plain, 832 
stuffed, 813 
croustades of, 850 
fried single breaded, 829 
double breaded, 830 
without eggs, 809 
fritters, 858 
fancy roast, 840 
stew, 827 
in cases, 847 
in a loaf, 848 
kromeskies, 857 
macaroni, with, 814 
omelet, 833 
patties, 846 
pie individual, 843 
hotel entree, 845 
pot pie, cheap, 844 
raw, 864 



on half-shell, 837 
roast fancy, 840 

pan, 841 

shell, 839 
sauce, brown, 854 

good, 853 

white, 852 
sauteed in butter, 828 
• scalloped silver shells, 855 

large pan, 834 

restaurant party, 835 

individual, 836 
soup, 819 

brown, 821 

French way, 820 
stew for fifty, 808 

milk, 824 

plain, 825 

dry, 826 

fancy, 827 
steamed shells, 842 
stuffed, 813 

stuffing for turkeys, etc., 855 
truffled, 812 

Pan-roast oysters, 841 
Panada, 962" 
Parsley sauce, 919 

fried, 867 

omelet, 1145 
Patties, oyster, 846 
Perch, fresh water, 891 
Pie, ovster, 843 
Pickerel, 115 
Pickle sauce, 1082 
Pickled salmon, 974 
Pike, boiled, 918 
Pig, roast, apple sauoe, 1034 

sucking, 1032 
Piquant sauce, 1084 ad 1105 
Plaice and flounders, 966 
Plover, broiled, 1134 
Poached eggs, 1139 
Porker, cutting up a, 1010 
Pork roast. 1030 

sausage, 1012 

chops, milk gravy, 1122 

salt slices of, 1123 

sauer kraut and, 1094 
Porterhouse cut, the, 988 
Possum and coon, 1008 
Potatoes, 

boulettes, 953 

cake for fish, 959 

croquettes. 946 
in small balls, 951 

dauphine, 94g 

Dutch fried, 878 

Duchesse, 957 

Francaise, 943 

fried plain, 873 

frizzed, 882 

Hollandaise, 923 

Lyonaise, 1116 

maitre d'hotel, 921 

minced, 868 

pancakes, 893 

parisienne, 953 

Saratoga chips, 870 

sauteed, 878 

shoestring, 882 

Quenelle forcemeat, fish, 961 
Quail on toast, 1133 

Rabbit young, broiled, 1135 
Radish greens, 1037 



Ill 



Raw oysters and clams, 864 
Red snapper, !)12 
grouper, 9 '7 
Remarks on frying fish, 872 
Restaurant tenderloin, 990 
Roe shad, fried, 885 
Roast clams, 8 1 1 
Robert sauce, 907 
Rocky mountain sheep, 1003 
Round of beef, 995 
Rum omelet, 1154. 



Sage and onion stuffing, 1033 
Salmon, boiled, 922 
steak. 9H2 

maitre d' hotel, S97 
canned, 975 
salt, 974 
Sauce, 

apple for meats, 1031 
Andalusian, 938 
bechamel, 932 
Bordolaise, 910 
bread, brown, 1002 

English, white, 1062 
brown oyster, 854 
butter, 916 and 917 
caper, 928 
celery, brown, 1059 

' white, 1092 
ehamp'ne for roast ham 1040 
chestnut, 1053 

puree, 1054 
chutney, 909 
cranberry, 1047 
cream, plain, 931 
egg, 936 
fennel, 924 
giblet, 1069 
Hollandaise, 899 
lobster, 934 
maitre d' hotel, 880 

hot, 925 
mint for lamb, 1027 
mustard, 973 
oyster, 852 
parsley, 919 
pickle' (082 
piquant, 1084 and 1105 
Robert, 90s 
royal, 887 
shrimp, 913 
tartar, 1049 
tomato, 120 



wine for flsh, etc., 955 
Sauer kraut, 1095 

with pork, 1094 
Sausage, good pork, 1012 
Sauteed oysters without eggs, 828 

potatoes, 878 
Scallops, to cook, 861 

in batter, 860 
Scalloped oysters, 834 

clams, 838 
Scrambled eggs, 1141 
Sea bass, baked, 984 
Shad, broiled, 884 

roe, fried, S85 
boiled, 926 
Sheephead, fish, 933 
Shirred eggs, 1143 
•Smelts, breaded, 983 

au beurre noir. 892 
Smoked haddock, 97(1 

herring 977 

white fish, 979 
Snipe and plover, 1 134 
Soft-shell crabs, boiled, 806 

fried. 807 
Soup, oyster, S19 

clam, 822 
chowder, S23 
Soles, 967 
Spanish beefsteak, 1109 

omelet, 1152 

mackerel, 886 
Speckled trout, 952 
Spinach, to cook, 1036 
Spring chickens. 1057 

Maryland style. 1063 
Squirrel broiled, 1 136 
Steak, catfish, 906 

halibut, 904 

salmon, 897 and 902 

fish, stewed, 935 

trout, 89S and 903 

restaurant tenderloin, 990 

porterhouse, 988 
Steamed oysters, 824 
Stewed terrapin, 805 
Striped bass, 883 
Stuffed oysters, 813 
Stuffing for fish, 942 and 956 

oyster, 855 

common for chickens, 1060 

sago and onion, 1033 

chestnut, 1052 
Sturgeon, 968 
Sucking pig, roast, 1032 



Sweet omelet, 1155 

Teal duck, 1137 and 1074 
Terrapin, to dress, 803 
baked in shell, 804 
stewed, 805 
Tenderloin steak, 990 
Tomato omelet, 1153 

sauce, 1120 
Tongue, boiled, 1083 

comed, 1085 
Trout, a la Genevoise, 969 
brook, boned, 866 

or speckled, fried, 869 
breaded, 871 
with bacon, 865 
a la Colbert, 879 
Mackinaw, 874 
fried in eggs, 875 
boiled, 920 
speckled, line herbs, 952 
broiled, 877 
potted, 896 
Tripe, broiled, 1128 
Truffled oysters, 812 
Turbot, 965 
Turkeys, 1045 

boiled oyster sauce, 1088 
roast, cranberry, 1046 
stuffed, 1049 
brown oyster, 1050 
stuffed with oysters, 1051 

chestnuts, 1052 
wild, roast, 1055 
Turtle, 1017 

Veal roast, 1028 

with dressing, 1029 

side of to cut. 996 

tenderloins, 997 
Venison, 1006 

roast, 1043 

baked in paste, 1042 

Whito fish, boiled, 930 

broiled, 881 

fillets, 947 

salt, 972 
Wild goose and brant, 1067 
roast, 1068 

ducks, 1071 and 1075 

turkey, 1055 
Wine sauce for fish, 955 

Young ducks with peas, 1066 



BOOK OF SOUPS AND ENTREES. 



Amber clear soup, 1256 
Andalusian soup, 1274 
Antelope steak saute, 1243 
Apple fritters with sauce, 1202 
Artichokes in gravy, 1290 
Asparagus soup, 1222. 

Uackbone stew, egg dumplings, 
1230 
Baked celery and cheese, 1206 

corn custard, 1231 

fish and cheese, 1285 
Barley soup, 1278 
Beef, a la mode, 1234 

chipped, in butter, 1244. 

ribs with Yorkshire pudding, 
1204 

small fillets in glaze, 1199 

stew with potatoes, 1280 
Blanquette of lamb, 1284 

of sweetbreads and oysters, 
1185 
Boston clam chowder, 1251 
Bouillon or beef broth, 1242 
Brains in brown butter, 1264 

in patties, 1273 
Braised fillet of beef, 1216 

roll of veal, 1252 
Braising, what it means, 1214. 
Breaded calf's head, tomato 
sauce, 1279 

cutlets, 1188 

ribs of lamb, 1267 
Calf's head fried, 1279 

head in omelet, 1223 

liver, larded, crisped onions, 

1283 

Calves' brains sauteed, with 

olives, 1264 

Celery and cheese baked, 1206 

cream soup, 1261 

stewed in cream, 1211 
Chicken, breast of, in form, 1183 

broth, 1215 

cutlets with vegetables, 1217 

gumbo soup, 1238 

pie, American style, 1193 

pies, small, French, 1224 
Chipped beef in butter, 1244 
Clear soups, 1175 

amber, or consomme, 1256 

turtle soup, 1187 
Coney Island chowder, 1208 
Corn custard, baked, 1232 

fried, or mock oysters, 1246 

hulled, or home-made hom- 
iny, 1237 
Corned pork tenderloins, 1275 

tongues with brocoli, 1272 
Cream fritters, 1186 

of asparagus, 1222 

of celery, 1261 

of potatoes, 1270 
Croquettes of sweetbreads, 1260 
Curried tripe, Italian, 1201 

veal with rice, 1291 
Wevilled beefsteak, 1111 

ham, old style, 1239 
Devils, what they are, 1237 
Egg dumplings for stews, 1230 
Egg plant fried, plain. 1200 
Eggs poached, in sauce, 1212 
Entrees, common sense about, 
1162 

rule of, 1170 

sweet, use of, 116s 

vegetable, or garnishes, 1169 
Espagnole or brown sauce, 1172 



Farina cake with jelly, 1213 
Fillet of beef, braised,' 1216 

larded, with mushrooms, 
1182 
Fish dinner bill of fare, 985 

fondue or baked with cheese, 
1285 

soup, mulligatawney, 1282 
French cream soup, 1287 

pancakes with jelly, 1265 

toast, wine sauce, 1241b 
Fricandeau of minced veal, 1209 
Fricasseed oysters in border, 
1241a 
Fricassee of veal and mushrooms, 
1258 
Fricassees, what they are, 1250 
Fritters, apple, 1202 

bell, 278 

corn mock oysters, 1246 

cream, 1186 

fruit, 253 

orange wino sauce, 1292 

parsnip, 1259 

peach, sabayon sauce, 1207 

pineapple, withcuracoa, 1227 

plain, 255 

potato, French, 280 

queen or Boston puff, 274 

Spanish puff, 275 

Game dinner bill of fare, page 

361 
Geese livers in cases, 1195 
Gumbo soup, 1238 

Hulled corn and milk, 1237 

Irish stew, 1280 

Kidneys and ham, minced, 1245 

l,amb, blanquette of, 1284 

cutlets with vegetables, 1188 
fries sauteed in butter, 1194 
hearts, Taulausaine, 1289 
stew with potatoes, 1253 
tongues with brocoli, 1272 

Larded fillet of beef, with mush- 
rooms, 1182 
liver, crisped onions, 1283 
sweetbreads with peas, 1205 

Macaroni and cheese, American, 
1241 
French, 1225 

and tomatoes, Italian, 1218 
in cream, 1269 
Minced kidneys and ham, 1245 
turkey with poached eggs, 
1281 
Mushrooms stewed, in cron- 
stades, 1184 
Mutton chops, breaded , tomatoes 
1235 
loin of, stuffed, 1198 
shoulder rolled, braised, 1257 

Onions crisped, garnish, 1283 

stuffed, baked, 1277 
Orange fritters, 1292 
Ox-tail soup, 1192 

Parsnip, fritters, 1259 
Patties, calves' brains, 1273 

chicken, 1224 

salmon, 1254 

turkey, 1286 
Peaches with rice, 1196 
Peach fritters, 1207 
Pie, chicken, American, 1193 

pigeon or squab, 1288 



veal and oyster, 1263 

veal pot-pie, 1276 
Pigeons potted, with jelly, 1189 
Pigeon pie, 1288 
Pigs feet, viniagretto, 1230 

head stewed, Russian sauce, 

1268 

Poached eggs, Andalusian, 1212 

Pork backbones or chine, stewed, 

1230 

tenderloins corned, glazed, 

with cabbage, 1210 1275 

Potato cream soup, 1270 
Potting, what it means, 1248 
Pumpkin bread, for lunch, 1232 

Quail, minced, or chaudpnid, 

1191 

Itabbits, smothered, country 

style, 1229 

stewed, soubise sauce, 1240 

Bice croquettes, sabayon, 1220 

peaches, with, 1196 
Roll of veal, braised, 1252 

Salmis, what they are, 1249 

Salmon patties, 1254 

Saute of young turkey, 1262 

Sautes, what they are, 1247 

Scotch broth, 1278 

Soups, clear, or consommes, 1175 
full, 1176 

Soup, amber clear, 1256 
Andalusian, 1274 
bouillon or beef broth, 1242 
chicken, 1215 

clam chowder, Boston, 1251 
clam chowder, Coney Island, 
clam, cream, 822 1208 

cream of asparagus, 1222 
cream, French, 1287 
cream of chicken, 1203 
cream of potatoes, 1270 
fish mulligatawney, 1282 
gumbo, 1238 
making, in general, 1174 
ox-tail, 1192 
oyster, 819 
potato cream, 1270 
Scotch mutton broth, 1278 
Spring or Printaniere, 1197 
stock, making, 1179 
tomato gumbo, 1266 
turtle, 1181 
vegetable, 1228 

Spaghetti and tomatoes, 1218 
in cream, 1269 

Spareribs baked or broiled, 
Robert, 1271 

Squab or pigeon pie, 1288 

Stuffed onions, 1277 
tomatoes, 1190 

Supreme of sweetbreads, 1226 

Supremes, what they are, 1221 

Sweetbreads, croquettes of, 1260 
larded, with peas, 1205 

Terrapin in cases, Maryland, 
in shell, 804 1219 

stewed, 805 

Tripe curried, Italian, 1201 

Turkey minced, poached eggs, 
patties, 1286 1281 

Turkey poult, saute, 1262 

Veal and oyster pie, 1263 
curry with rice, 1291 



ysiiLLy wiuii live, i*ji 

pot-pie, country style, 
Veloute or white sauce, 1173 



1276 



INDEX OF FRENCH TERMS. 



Antelope, Saute of, aux Pommes, Francaise, 124:> 
Articho es (fonds do artiehauts) a l'Espagnole, 

1290 
Beef is Bceuf, 989 

a la mode, 1234 

dried, an beurre, 1244 

petits filets de, en demi-glace, 1199 

slew a l'lrlandaise, 1280 

filet de, pique, aux champignons, 1182 

filet de, braise, 1216 

entreeote a l'Anglaise, 1019 

a l'ecarlate, 1078 

a la jardiniere, 1077 

grenadins of, a la diable, 1111 

emlnce de, a la Hamburg, 1115 
Beefsteak is Bifteck, 1099 

aux mousserous, a l'Anglaise, 1107 

aux pommes Francaise, 1103 

a la maitre d'hotel, 1104 

a la Milanaise, 1113 

an naturel, 1100 

a la menagere, 1101 

a la sauce piquante, 1105 

a la Creole, 1109 

aux champignons, 1106 

aux ognons, 1112 

aux huitres, 1114 

a la sauce tomate, 1110 
Brains (cervolle deveau) a la Milanaise, 1264 

en petits pates, 1273 
Calf's head is Tete do veau, 1279 

a la Venitienne, 1279 

a la Charteuse, 1223 
Celery is Celeri, Bauce, 1059 

and cheese a la Piemontaise, 1206 

a la Bechamel, 1211 
Clams, a la paulette, 861 
Duck is Canard, young duck is caneton, 1066 

Caneton a l'Anglaise, 1066 

au cresson, a la Francaise, 1072 
Fish is Poisson, page 335 

rechauffe of, a la Chartreuse, 1285 

bisque of, a l'lndienne, 1282 

Truites, petites, bardes, 865 and 866 

Trout fried, aux pommes Saratoga 

Trout, a la chevallere, 871 

Truite du lac, a l'ltalienne, 875 

Trout broiled, a la Colbert, 879 

Smelts sautes, au buerre, 892 

Salmon steak broiled, a l'Anglaise 897 

Salmon or trout, a laHollandaise, 898 

Pompano grilleo, a la tartare, 902 

Bass ragee, fillets of, a la maitre d'hotel, 883 

Bed snapper boiled, sauce aux cresettes, 912 

Bock Bass, a la Printamere, 929 

Whiteflsh, a la Bechamel, 930 

Mackerel boiled, a l'Anglaise 

Sheephead boiled, sauce homard, 933 

Bed Grouper, a 1'Andalouse, 937 

Carp baked, a lAmericaine, 939 

Carp baked, a l'Espagnole, 941 

Salmon trout baked au gratin, 945 

Whiteiish, fillets of, a la Mackinac, 947 



Spanish mackerel, fareis aux pommes cro- 
quettes, 949 
Trout baked, aux fines herbes, 952 
Bluefish baked, a la Bordelaise, 954 
Codfish baked, a l'Ostende, 958 
Muskallonge or piko, a la Chambord, 960 
Ked drum, a la Creole, 963 
Whiteflsh a la Point Shirley, 964 
Soles, fillets of, a l'Anglaise, 967 
Salmon trout, a la Genevoise, 969 
Sea Bass, a la Port Eoyal, 984 
Fowl is Volatile, chickens are poulets and 

poulardes. 
Chicken, boudins of, a la Richelieu, 1183 

cutlets of, a la Julienne, 1217 

pie a 1'Americaine, 1193 

a la Marengo, 1247 

a la Maryland, 1063 

a la crapaudine, 1132 

Bouchees de volaille, 1224 
Fritters are Beignets, 255 
Beignets de bouillie, 1186 

de mais, 1246 

de pommes, 1202 

a l'ananas, 1227 

aux fruits, 253 

a l'orange, au vin, 1292 

de peches, au sabayon, 1207 

souffles, 247 

souffles a la vanille, 275 

de pommes de terre, 280 

de pavais, 1259 

aux huitres, 858 
Game is Gibier; game dinner, page 361 

Bear is Ours; young bear is ourson, 1007 

gigot (leg) de ourson, 1007 
Deer is Daim; cotelettes de, same as 1243 
Prairie hen is Poule de prairie. 
Quail is Caille; sur canape, 1133 

chaudfroid of, 1191 

galantine en bellevue, 802 
Babbit is Lapereau; gritte, 1135 

aiafermiere, 1229 

a la Soubise, 1240 
Teal duck is Sarcelle; roti, 1074 
Venison is Venaison and Chevreuil. 

Selle (saddle) de, 1043 
Goose is Oie; young goose is oison, 1064 
Ham is Jambon, grille, 1124 
roast aux epinards, 1035 
a la diable, 1239 
a la Westphalienne, 1039 
I^amb is Agneau, 1026 

blanquotte of, a la Nantaise, 1284 
cutlets a la Printaniere, 1188 
frie6, sautes au buerre noir, 1194 
hearts, a la Toulouse, 1289 
haricot of, a la jardiniere, 1253 
tongues, al'AUemande, 1272 
cutlets, aux petits pois, 1121 
cutlets, a la marechale, 1235 
epigramme of, a la chevaliere, 1767 
Liver and bacon saute of, 1247 



larded, a la Lyonnaise. 1283 
Foies-gras en caisses, a la Bordelaise, 1195 
Pain de foies de paulardes, 802 
Lobster is Homard, 746 

Hoinard, buisson de, 746 
Homard, mayonnaise de, 746 
Mutton is Mouton, 999 

gigot (leg) de sauce capres, 1081 
cutlets en canapes, 1118 
rouleau of braise, a la Bretonne 1257 
Oysters are Huitres, page 350 

Croustades of, a la Montglas, 850 
a la brochette, 851 
Kromeskies of, a la Russe, 857 
a la creme, 815 
farcies aux truffes, 812 
en caisses. 847 
a la Milanaise, 814 
Omelette aux huitres, 833 
Vols-av-vent garnis aux huitres, 846 
Bouchees aux huitres, 846 
Petits pates aux huitres, 845 
Huitres sur coquille, 837 
Huitres au graten, 834 
Salade de huitres. 
Huitres en aspic. 
Potencies (Scallops) a la Marseillaise, 860 
Pork is Pore, 1010 

chine of, a la fermiere, 1230 
cochon de lait (sucking pig), 1032 
cutlets, a la bourgeois, 1122 
scallops of, a la Flamande 
fillets of, a l'ecarlate, 1275 
Pigs head, a la Russe, 1268 

feet, a la viniagrette, 1236 
Salad is Salade; dressing, 7n7 
Salade de chou-fleur, 699 

celeri, 706 

concombres, 772 

escarole 768 

laitue, 767 

pommes, 723, 730 

harengs, 726 

legumes, 701 

crevettes, 733 

macedoine, 724 

a la Eusse, 745 

a la Hollandaise, 725 

a l'ltalienne, 744 

a la jardiniere, 740 
Mayonnaise, sauce a la, 693 
Mayonnaise de homard, 746 

de volaille, 759 

de poisson, 750 

de crevettes, 733 
Soups thick or full are PotageB, 1176 



Potage a l'Andalouse, 1274 

creme d'asperges, 1222 

a la creme, 1287 

creme de volaille, 1203 

alareine, 1203 

Parmentier, 1270 

a l'lndienne, 1282 

gumbo a la Creole, 1238 

a la fermiere, 1228 

aux quens de boeuf, 1192 

huitres a la creme, 819 

huitres a la Marseillaise, 820 

huitres a l'Ostende, 821 

a l'Ecossaise, 1278 

d'orge, (barley soup) 1278 

gumbo aux tomates, 1266 

tortue verte, 1181 

tortue claire, 1187 

bouillon or beef broth, 1242 
Soups, clear broths are Consommes, 1256 
Consomm clair, 1256 

do volaille, or of chicken, 1215 

Printaniere, 1197 

paysanne, 1233 

au riz (with rice), 1175 

Imperial (with custard shapes) 1175 

royal (same as imperial) 1 175 

aux pates d'ltalie (alphabet maco- 
roni) 1175 

aux petits pois, (with green peag) 1 1 75 

au chou-fleur, (with cauliflower) 1 17." 

au vermicelli, 1175 
Spaghetti, a la Palermetane, 1218 

a la Bechamel, 1269 
Sweetbreads are Ris de veau, 1205 
supreme of, aux truffes, 1226 
croquettes of, a la Perigneux, 1260 
pique, aux petits pois, 1205 
and oysters, a la Cherbourg, 1 185 

Turkey is Dinde, young turkey isdindonneau. 
aux marrons, 1052 
emince of, aux oeufs poches, 1281 
aux huitres, 1051 
a l'Anglaise, 1049 
a l'Americaine, 1046 
Dindon sauvage roti, 1055 
Petits pates de valaille, 1286 
Dindonneaux sautes, 1262 

Veal is Veau, 1028 

and oyster pie a l'Anglaise, 1263 
curry with rice, a l'lndienne, 1291 
pie a la paysanne, 1276 
rouleau of,' braise sauce au vin, 1252 
fricassee of, a la Toulouse, 1258 
fricandeau of, a la Bourgeoise, 1209 



0. F. GUNTHEB, 

CONFECTION ER 78 ™ S TREET ' 



DEAL 1: 11 IN 



ALL KINDS OF PAPER CASES FOR COOKS, 

ORNAMENTS, 

FANCY MOTTOES, FINE CONFECTIONERY FOR THE TABLE, ETC. 

SEND FOR CATALOGUE. 



l&meeon • and • /H°r^e : 
Job • J)pinte^ • and • JXlUi^er^ 

164 Clap^: e^iea^o. I 

MENUS, BALL PROGRAMMES AND HOTEL WORK GENERALLY. 



HENRY A. SLOAN, 

WHOLESALE DEALER IH 

Fniiltri], Game, HijsIeps and Fish 

GAME A SPECIALTY. 

3STO- 86 ^LID-A-IVUS STIRIEIET, 

CHICAGO, 



If you need any articles that are not advertised; anything thai 
the merchants do not keep on ha?id or do not understand by the 
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write, and I will try to proczire what is wanted. 

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Publisher of Hotel Cook Books, 

Care NATIONAL HOTEL REPORTER, CHICAGO 



Daily Hotel Gazette, 



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REFRESHMENT CONTRACTORS' GAZETTE, 

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October 2d, 1882. 



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Oven is always ready 
for use. It will do 



Cat representing Oven with Hand-Power Attachment 

the Baking with less fuel and will turn out twice the capacity of any 
common furnace Oven of the same size. We manufacture all sizes, and 
are prepared to furnish any capacity desired. 



BAKERS AND CONFECTIONERS TOOLS. 



We are the only firm in the United States manufacturing six entirely differ- 
ent styles of Ovens, and all kinds of Bakers' and Confectioners Tools and Ma- 
chinery. Among which we specially mention 

CAKE MIXERS, 

Hand or Steam power, with capacity from 25 to 100 quarts. 

THE REVERSIBLE EGG-BE A TER. 

Hand or Steam power. Capacity 25 quarts. 

The Patent Combination Ornamenting Tubes. 

In all variety and sizes; 24 in number. 

ICE CREAM FREEZERS. 

Hand or steam power ; all sizes, from 6 to 40 quarts. 

Porcelain-lined lee Cream Cans, Icins: Bowls, Cream Kettles, 
Ornamental Moulds, all sizes and styles; Ice Crushers, etc. 

Send for Illustrated Catalogue, showing 75 cuts. 

J±. J. FISH & CO,, 

57 Lake St., Chicago, His. 



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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



003 384 144 9 



